Delusion
by burgundyred
Summary: Hermione reluctantly explores her wicked side with Draco to help him win a bet against Pansy involving Harry. What follows? Conspiracy, corruption, humor, payback, guilt, and sparks of all sorts. A twisty DMHG fic. Complete.
1. Chap 1: Prologue

A/N: This is my first romantic fic, so don't be too hard on me. Also first DMHG. [PROLOGUE REVISED 1/16]  
  
Delusion  
  
Draco Malfoy smirked as he looked in the mirror, studying his body. He was in his dorm-the first night of seventh year. Hogwarts was almost over, thank God. Just one more year, and then he could go away from his father and all those stupid obligations forever. He frowned as his took in his sexy six pack and nicely shaped arms, lost in thought about his father. Lucius Malfoy was a bastard. Draco didn't give a shit about the Dark Lord, so why help him out? But all summer long, Lucius had been nagging him about taking a position in the Dark Lord's inner circle. Screw the fucking Dark Lord. Draco didn't want to help anybody. He wasn't good by any means. He had no intention of defeating the Dark Lord or anything. It was just the fact that Voldemort didn't instill fear in his heart like he did to everyone else. Draco knew he'd always be safe, but he was lazy, and uninterested in killing people. Not his favorite past time.  
  
Draco slipped on his robes and sauntered slowly down to the Great Hall for dinner. He'd grown sexy over the summer, and he knew it. Since sixth year, girls had drooled over his fabulous looks, but if possible, he now looked even better. The blonde hair that he once slicked back with oodles of gel had grown out shaggy and his bangs dropped into his eyes, giving him a mysterious and seductive look. At the Great Hall, the first person he ran into was his ex, Pansy Parkinson. Pansy wasn't anything much to look at, Draco mused to himself. In fact, she was quite ugly, now that he knew her true persona. But hell, she was good and easy. Since he broke up with her (she was just so stupid!) he'd used her as a FWB (friend with benefits) when he really needed to. He made it a vow that this year he wouldn't sleep with her (unless natural urges took over, yikes!) 

"Hey, Draco!" Pansy gushed when she saw him. He flicked his head upward in a way that guys do as an acknowledgement. He knew this was something that really turned girls like Pansy on, because his shaggy hair flipped back and it looked really great. "How have you been?" she continued. He shrugged. He wasn't really in the mood to talk to Pansy. She was such an idiot sometimes. This year, he decided he was going to find a girl that he could talk to without having to repeat himself ten times. Someone sexy but really clever.  
  
He looked around, checking out all the girls around him. Over the summer, his hormones had gone into overdrive. Seventeen years old now, close to eighteen, and he knew he had a right to be. Millicent was still fat and heavy. Truth be told, he was terrified of her. She was the one girl that he was really nice to, for fear of getting squashed flat. Pansy-still goddamn ugly. He looked over to the other houses out of a slight interest. His buddies Crabbe and Goyle were really very boring to talk to, unless it was about beating someone up. He scanned the Ravenclaws. He knew about Potter's old thing with Cho Chang, and he had to admit-that girl was good looking. Potter. Draco swung his eyes over in his direction. 

There Potter was, laughing it up with his two best friends, the Weasel and the mudblood, oh, wow, she didn't look half as shitty as she had through sixth year. Was something wrong with his 20/20 vision or had she grown.well, for lack of a better word in his immature mind, sexy? Draco was absolutely obsessed with that word. Everything was sexy now, even the mud blood. He looked at her bushy hair, slightly tamer, which now hung in long curls down to her waist. Sexy. He took in her figure. She was very slim, but sexy. Her smile radiated a glow of happiness. Sexy. He shook his head, trying to get that out of his mind. Sure, sure, she was sexy, but she was a fucking mud blood with an attitude problem. She'd be good, he mused. So good. He scowled suddenly. What was he doing, thinking about Granger? Hermione Granger, first of all, Gryffindor, and secondly, mud blood? He quickly moved his silver eyes, focusing instead on the chicken curry that sat in front of him.   
  
* * * * * * *  
Harry Potter couldn't believe it. His seventh year at Hogwarts! Amazing. Simply amazing. He felt a warm sense of bliss just sitting here with his two best friends in the entire world. He looked them over. Ron had grown, if possible, even taller over the summer. He must be like 6"3, Harry mused. Jesus. And Hermione, well, Hermione was something special to look at now. Shit, even Slytherin guys probably found her hot. And the funniest part was, Hermione really didn't know it. It was what made her so appealing. She didn't try to be really good-looking. She just was. Harry smiled at her, thinking about what it would be like with Hermione. Good, he mused. So good. Over the summer, Harry's hormones had totally gone into overdrive. He suspected he wasn't the only one. Wiping the silly grin off his face, Harry reminded himself about his platonic (and he stressed the word) relationship with Hermione. Sure, she was good looking, but she was his best friend. He looked at her again, just to make sure he didn't have feelings. Nothing sloshed around in his stomach and he smiled, relieved. It had just been a shock to see how pretty she'd grown over the summer. 

Harry knew he wasn't the only one thinking about girls and sex these days. Ron was seriously ogling at Hermione. Harry frowned in slight distaste. He really didn't think that Ron and Hermione would work out together. He remembered in sixth year, when Ron had really liked Hermione, and she had never known. Would it be like that again? Harry sighed to himself, and continued scanning the hall for someone interesting to check out. He never realized that a hundred other seventh year sex crazed boys were doing the same thing.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Ron Weasley barely touched his food that first day back. He was just awestruck with Hermione. He'd liked her since fourth year, although he'd only told Harry sixth year. It wasn't just her amazing looks, which weren't, in fact, stunning like Fleur's…they were neutral but somehow in an odd and inexplicable way, quite captivating, but the fact that she was so smart and so sweet. He adored her, secretly. He almost felt in love with her. It was scary, he thought to himself, to feel this way about a girl. He could understand loving Quiddith and loving Pig, but loving a girl…?

*A/N (added 1/16)* Yeah let's just clear some things up before we're all like, omg, why is everyone good looking? This was an idea that I abandoned (you know, make fun of all the fics where everyone is supersexy). So in future chapters, this isn't really continued, at least the sheer sexiness that is… uhhh Draco, so ignore it. It's all in good fun.

Bear with me! Twists start soon, I promise.


	2. Chap 2: The Start of Seventh Year

Delusion- Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter blah blah blah

A/N: This will eventually be a Draco/Hermione fic! Bear with me, I'm getting there! And please, please review!

Up in the common room, Ron Weasley was feeling a little shy. After an entire year, he decided that he was ready to ask Hermione out. When she came up into the room chattering noisily with Harry, Ron walked over, feeling awkward. Harry looked at Ron's face and immediately got the hint, walking over to join Dean and Seamus in a discussion about Quidditch. Ron opened his mouth to speak but at that very moment Parvati descended upon Hermione. "Oh, Hermione! Did you hear about Pierre?" Hermione shook her head. "Oh my god, I didn't tell you?" Parvati continued. "I went to France this summer, and he was the hottest, coolest guy I have ever met! Oooh, I have to tell you about him!" Ron noticed that while Hermione did sit down with Parvati to gossip non-stop about the latest (Pierre, this time), she looked rather bored with the conversation. Ron sighed. Hermione was so much above him—all into this intellectual stuff. She'd probably enjoy a conversation about Arithmancy more than a conversation about boys—or with a boy, for that matter. Staring at her pretty face, Ron changed his decision. He would wait a bit before asking her out. Maybe she was meant to be the kind of girl that was always your crush, but you'd never really be comfortable going with her. He headed back to Harry and his other mates.

* * * * ** 

Over the next few days, Harry decided that while seventh year was a lot of fun, it was so tough. He cursed himself for wanting to be an Auror—he was still stuck in Professor Snape's class. Luckily, Hermione was still there as well, although many familiar faces such as Ron and definitely Neville, had opted not to take the grueling class. Harry hated double potions, because it meant sharing a period with the Slytherins—which unfortunately still included Draco Malfoy. But then again, why would Malfoy ever drop Potions? It was an easy A for him, without doing any work whatsoever. Now here he was in Potions, and Snape was assigning partners. Let me get Hermione, Harry prayed, please. I need a good grade, and she's easy to work with. "Let's see…let's have Ms. Parkinson and…oh, why not, Mr. Potter," Snape said icily. Harry cursed. Damn, damn, damn. Pansy Parkinson of all people. He _hated _Pansy Parkinson, who had a school wide reputation as being very, very easy, and very, very bitchy. Hell, even the Slytherins who _slept_ with the wench didn't like her. Harry grimaced up at her as Snape called out the next pairing… "Ms. Granger and Mr. Malfoy". Harry shot a sympathetic look towards Hermione. I'm sorry, he mouthed. She had it even worse than him. 

* * * * 

Draco scowled over at his partner. Yes, she was very brainy, and very pretty, but this was Granger. The girl he'd hated since first year. Hell, she'd even slapped him before! Nobody got away with that. He still hadn't come up with a truly fabulous way of getting her back. "Well," said Granger as he walked up to the table where she sat, "We've got to make a Polyjuice potion. Not hard at all, really." 

"Shut up Granger. It's damn hard," he said, his scowl deepening. 

To his surprise, Granger smiled. "Not really," she told him. "It's really rather easy…I've actually ma—I mean, I'm sure it's simple," she told him. He looked at her, tuning out her words. It was something he did often—pretend to listen, but really check out. Just when he was noticing the gorgeous hair spilling carelessly onto the table, she snapped at him. "Haven't you heard a word I've said?" she said. "I've told you to bring all these ingredients and you haven't acknowledged a word I've said!"

"Sorry," he mumbled, getting up to find the ingredients. And then a thought hit him. Had he just apologized to Granger?

* * * * 

Hermione felt a twinge of self-confidence when she noticed how many looks the boys had sent her way since the start of seventh year. True, she had wasted a fortune on hair stylists over the summer thanks to a cousin's wedding (and her cousin's constant yelling that she better tame her hair) but now she really had found an easy way to keep her hair less frizzy and more…soft curl-ish. Other than that, Hermione was a little surprised that boys noticed her. Nothing else had changed about her. She was still the bookworm, the shorty, and the girl with a temper. Hell, she suddenly realized as she lay in bed that night, even Malfoy had checked her out today. Not that that was really an achievement, but Malfoy, her arch enemy, had unknowingly conveyed to her that he still knew she was a member…and a good looking member…of the opposite sex. Hermione began to marvel. Draco Malfoy, the sexiest boy in the entire school, had checked her out. Wait—she thought suddenly—Draco Malfoy, the sexiest boy in the entire school? _Sexy? _True, she sighed, he was damn good looking, but he was a bastard. Still the same old bastard. She despised him, she decided, but not his good looks.

* * * * 

"So, Ron, are you going to ask her or not?" said Harry, in reference to the Welcome Back dance that the school was holding for the seventh years. This was a fairly new tradition, but from what Harry knew, Lavender and Parvati, as well as some other ditzy girls from other houses, had gone up and complained about the lack of dances. As a result, Dumbledore and his staff (with the exception of Snape) had decided that there would be a few dances throughout the school year which everyone was expected to attend. And as it was seventh year, Harry knew that everybody who went had to have a date—which meant that well, he had to have one too. 

" I don't know Harry. I think she'd say no," Ron said, looking wistfully at Hermione, who in the opposite corner was doing her homework. "Who are you going with?"

It was Harry's turn to look a bit depressed. "Haven't asked anyone yet…although you won't believe who asked me today!" 

"Who?" asked Ron, looking up with interest. "That fat girl in Ravenclaw? She's like a dog when you're around, you know, panting after you…rather disgusting if you ask me." 

Harry scowled. "No, not her. And Ron, you ass, that's a really rude thing to say, although hell I do agree with you. No, actually…Pansy Parkinson whispered something of the sort in my ear."

Ron laughed. "She's trying to set a record—sleep with every guy in seventh year, and you're her next target! What better way than to invite you to the dance?" 

"I didn't answer her," Harry said glumly. "I absolutely hate her, however, and there is _no way _in hell that I am going to sleep with that wench. Unfortunately, if I don't get around to asking someone…that leaves…" he scowled. "I'll just ask Hermione as a friend, then," he said, making up his mind. 

"What, not fair!" Ron exclaimed. "If anyone asks her as a friend, it should be me!" 

"Jesus, Ron…you're really acting like a girl! 'I like her, oh wait, no I don't. I'll ask her, oh wait, no I won't.' Make up your fucking mind!"

* * * * 

Draco prowled around his common room, literally browsing for prey—a date. A nice fuck at the end of the evening was a must, so that left…well, everyone in this room, for sure. Who could resist his damn good looks? He instantly decided against Parkinson, annoying wench. He couldn't believe he'd lost his virginity to her of all people, but it was sixth year and he'd been well, a little desperate. That had been before his shaggy blonde hair had arrived, making him incredibly sexy. In truth, Draco hated Parkinson more than anyone else. She was always over him, always expecting sexual favors which he wasn't willing to give. How many times had he told her… "Parkinson, these damn good looks are wasted on you!" in his cruelest voice possible? Why did she always assume he was joking? Oh holy mother of God, here she was, walking towards him.

"Dra-co," she cooed gently. He frowned, trying to ruin his looks even though it was physically impossible (at least in his mind).

"What do you want?" he finally asked in a strained voice.

"Oh," she said, probably trying to sound sweet but instead sounding like she'd just choked on butterbeer, "just wanted to ask who you're going to the dance with."

"None of your business, Parkinson. And I'll have you know, I would never in bloody hell go with you." 

"Oh, and I'll have _you_ know that I've already asked someone much better looking to go with me," Pansy said slyly. Draco really began to pay a bit of attention. No one is better looking than I am at this school, he thought angrily. Hell, I'm sure even Granger thinks I'm hot. Wait, he suddenly thought, why the fuck did Granger just pop into his head? 

"And who may that be, Parkinson?" he finally asked, as softly as possible. Anyone who knew him knew that the softer his voice, the more dangerous he became.

"Oh…just your good friend," she said, giggling a bit. Draco was smart enough to know that this did not mean Crabbe or Goyle, the bumberheads. Not that he judged boys or anything, but Draco knew they probably didn't fit well into the category of "hot". 

"Who is it, Pansy?" he said, losing patience. 

"Harry Potter," she said, almost laughing at this point. Draco felt his blood boiling. Of all the ways to annoy him, she'd asked Potter to the dance!

"He wouldn't go with you," he finally managed to say. "He'd _never_ go with you."

"Sure he will…I'm going to…seduce…him," she said breathily, advancing towards him. Draco closed his eyes. He hated Pansy's subtle, or rather, not-so-subtle moves. "Pansy," he said, holding out his hand, "I am not interested. Go try it out on Potter but I doubt that he'd be interested either…but maybe, since that little dog has gotten no action whatsoever…he'll go for you," he added, his voice burning with hatred at the thought of Potter getting action with…Granger? Why the _hell_ did she keep popping up in his thoughts? Filthy, sexy mudblood, he thought angrily.


	3. Chap 3: Prelude to a Dance

Delusion- Chapter 3  
  
A/N: I'm not getting that many reviewers for this. Okay, this contains a bet, but it is NOT your Draco dared to sleep with Hermione bet. I promise. It's different. Anyway, please please review this!  
  
Pansy looked at him, smiling. "Oh, yes, Monsieur Malfoy. I've asked your archenemy to the dance." He scowled.  
  
"We've already established that fact, haven't we?" he said impatiently. He hated her so much. She was such a bitch. "And we've also established the fact that he would never go with you. Believe me Pansy, your charms wouldn't work."  
  
She stared at him, silent for a few minutes. Draco looked at her, surprised. To not her hear constant nagging was a relief, but it definitely meant that something was up.  
  
"A love potion would," she said softly enough that Draco had to strain his ears to hear her.  
  
"Pansy, you're insane." He looked at her with contempt. Love potions were hard to make, they hadn't even started studying them in Potions yet. Even Granger.oh mother of God, here she was again in his head!.wasn't brainy enough to make them.  
  
"No, I'm not."  
  
"You're not smart enough to make a love potion." He stared at her, making sure his silver eyes glittered with anger. Enough to make her terrified of him.  
  
"Draco," she said suddenly, her voice almost floating on the tension between them, "do you know who my sister is?"  
  
Draco knew perfectly well who Pansy Parkinson's sister was. Paris Parkinson was drop dead gorgeous. She was a model in Witch's Weekly and made a shit load of money.  
  
"What about her?" he asked edgily.  
  
"You know Paris. Paris's is in the business. I mean, the coolest business ever. Paris can make love potions with a snap of her hand. She has two potion brewers, you know."  
  
"You wouldn't." He said, staring her in the eye. Would she? Would she really go to such extreme lengths to snag Harry Potter? All because he was some guy she'd never slept with?  
  
"Oh," she said softly, tracing her fingertips across his hand, which he quickly jerked away, "I would."  
  
"I don't understand why, Pansy. I thought you hated him. He's in a different house, and I'm telling you. It's Potter. He's got morals. He wouldn't just sleep with some random wench."  
  
Pansy didn't bat an eyelash. She didn't even seem to realize he had just insulted her. "Draco Malfoy," she said, just as breathily. Sounded awful. "You are the sexiest guy in our school, but Harry Potter.well, let's just say, he's close behind."  
  
"So this is what you're saying: you want to get Harry Potter because he's hot? Well why are you trying so hard? There's more to it, Pansy. Spill."  
  
"Why do you care so much?" she asked suddenly. Damn it. How was she smart enough to reverse the tables on him?  
  
"Because," he said silkily, "I want to see how badly you fail. Potter will never sleep with you. Ever."  
  
She looked him straight in the eye. "You're on, Draco. I bet you that I will. Give me a month and I'll have him begging for more."  
  
"A bet?" he said, cocking up an eyebrow. He was rather good at this. "All right, Pansy. It's a bet. What're we betting for?"  
  
"You." He stared at her, incredulous.  
  
"What?" he asked, suddenly unsure of himself. He was never unsure of himself!  
  
"Well, if I win, which I will, you'll be my boyfriend for the rest of the year." He scowled. But she wasn't going to win, if he had anything to do with it.  
  
"And if I win?"  
  
"Well, you won't. But decide what you want."  
  
"If I win, you'll never bother me again. Not sexually, emotionally, nada. And.one hundred galleons."  
  
"Deal. Bastard." She stalked off, looking smug.  
  
******************************************************************  
  
Hermione sighed. Stupid dance. It was going to be so depressing if nobody asked her. Well, she could always go with Harry or Ron for back up. Just then, Ron came over. Hermione looked up at his towering figure. He was too tall for her, she realized. He was over a foot taller, her being 5'2 and him being 6'3.  
  
"Hey Ron," she said, smiling.  
  
"Hey.listen, um, I was wondering." he broke off, suddenly looking away and looking pained. Hermione turned to what he was looking at.  
He was looking at Harry, who was mouthing something to him. Suddenly Ron turned back to Hermione.  
  
"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the dance."  
  
"Well.we're expected to, Ron." she said. Just then, Parvati came up and sidled up to Ron.  
  
"Ron," Parvati said. "You want to go to the dance with me?" she said it so coolly, and so confidently, that Hermione was envious of her nature. Parvati was so self-assured and why shouldn't she be? She was gorgeous.  
  
Ron stared at Parvati for a few seconds before he answered. "Sure," he said.  
  
"So, Ron?" Hermione cut in, "what were you saying?"  
  
"I wasn't saying anything. Just wondering.who you were going with." he finished up, looking uneasy.  
  
Hermione laughed. "Well, I'd ask you who you were going with, but I already know. If you must know, I'm not going with anyone as of yet."  
She smiled, as genuinely as possible, when she said this, but in truth, she was really disappointed. The dance was three days away, and she hadn't been asked. Her new found self confidence was dangerously swaying. She had thought that by taming her bushy hair, by watching her weight--- that guys would automatically be attracted to her. And, that had been true-- -even Malfoy had checked her out. But, she was realizing it wasn't just looks. What else did she have to change? She never realized the truth---the answer was nothing.  
  
******************************************************************  
  
Harry walked confidently over to Hermione, sighing. The dance was tomorrow and he hadn't asked anyone. He didn't really like any girl in the school at the moment, nothing more than friends at least.  
  
"Hey, Hermione," he said. She was poring over Arithmancy.  
  
"Hello, Harry," she said, as her brows furrowed in concentration. Harry marveled at this. How could she keep so absorbed in something so boring?  
  
"I was wondering if you had a date to the dance tomorrow night." he said, plainly as possible. It was depressing really. She probably had a date; he was probably the only loser who didn't.  
  
To his surprise, she sighed just as deeply. "No," she said, her pencil tracing absent minded lines on the paper, "I don't."  
  
"Well, I don't either," he told her. "Do you want to go together as friends? So we don't have to be seen stag?"  
  
She laughed. "That's awesome, Harry. Yeah, definitely. And now, I have a question for you too."  
  
"Shoot," he said, smiling. He was so relieved; it was great having a female friend.  
  
"Want to come with me to the library?" He laughed, and they both walked down to the books.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Draco watched as Potter and Granger walked into the library, chatting animatedly about something insignificant. He mused, looking at Potter. He hoped Potter had some willpower; he'd placed his bet on him. Pansy couldn't take him, could she? Just then, he felt a tap on his shoulder.  
  
"Draco," someone whispered. He turned around, annoyed. He could recognize that voice anywhere.  
  
"What is it, Pansy?"  
  
"I can't contact Paris!" Smirking, he noticed the urgency in her voice.  
  
"Really. Have you tried both France and Spain?"  
  
"I've tried everywhere! I even asked mum, and she said that Paris's disappeared with her latest boyfriend and hasn't been seen for a month! Draco, the bet's off."  
  
"Merlin, Pansy. Bets are bets. You're just going to have to do it without a love potion. Don't you think your.ravishing beauty.can handle that?" He smiled, his voice oozing with charisma. He definitely knew how to turn on the charm.  
  
"Oh," she moaned. "Don't you worry, Dra-co. I am going to get him." He smirked as she walked with determination to where Potter and Granger were sitting, Potter flipping through a Quidditch magazine and Granger's honey brown eyes immersed in some book.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
Pansy Parkinson marched her sorry little arse towards the table. Hermione noticed and scowled deeply at her. She couldn't stand her, she was even openly rude, something she usually reserved for Malfoy. Pansy was the biggest slut, and all the girls gossiped tirelessly about her.  
  
"What're you doing here, Pansy?" Hermione snapped.  
  
"Shut it, Granger. I'm here to talk to Harry." Hermione's expression of hatred grew even more obvious. Hermione watched with loathing as Harry swiveled so he could face her.  
  
"What do you want?" Harry asked.  
  
"Well, we've got a potions project, and I have some free time right now.do you think we could work on it?"  
  
Hermione was disgusted. Pansy was leaning over the table, so Harry had a full glimpse of her cleavage, so easily visible from Pansy's low cut robes. What added to Hermione's disgust was that Harry was obviously looking down there. She closed her eyes, wishing that guys weren't so shallow.  
  
"Um, well, I suppose?" he was saying now.  
  
"Great. Let's go to Professor Snape's room." Pansy's voice was too breathy. What was Pansy doing, trying to seduce Harry? Why would she want Harry? As Hermione watched the two of them leave, her brain was teeming with questions. What she didn't know was that a boy with platinum blonde hair was watching her in the shadows.  
  
A/N: I will love you if you review. Please, please, please? 


	4. Chap 4: Malfoy's Little Plan

Delusion Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry-major writer's block. Um, I just have one thing to say: If you like this please look at A PostHogwarts Affair or The Enemy both by…me…anyway to the fic.

She looked so upset, and he knew she had good reason to be. Her best friend falling into the clutches of Hogwarts' resident slut. He hoped however that Potter had more morals in him than what he'd just displayed. Smirking, he walked up to the gagging Granger.

"Sorry, are we, that Potter's found a new…sex interest?" he said.

"Shut your trap Malfoy, I am _not _in the mood," she snapped back at him.

"Ouch. Not so often that a mud blood dares to snap back at me."

"Not so often that a pure blood takes so much interest in me. Now what the hell do you want or are you waiting for me to hex you?" God. Even her shriek sounded sexy to him.

He didn't know how to be nice to her, so he continued the charade. "Don't worry…mud blood, for once you and I are on the same boat." He turned quickly and left to his dorms, hoping that Pansy did not have it in her to convince Potter to sleep with her.

* * * * * * * 

Hermione finished her homework and walked back to the Gryffindor common room, a little upset that Harry still hadn't returned and it had been two hours. Why had Harry even gone with her in the first place? They didn't have to work on Potions now! Harry _hated _her, he couldn't stand her, but here he was, working with her out of class! What was wrong with the world? 

She sank down in one of the comfortable chairs in the common room. Pretty soon Ron came up to talk to her.

"Ron, what was that about, earlier, before Parvati interrupted?" Hermione asked lazily. 

"Oh…nothing. I was going to ask you to go with me as a friend but then…"

Hermione sat up. "Thanks a lot Ron. I'm always the back up, aren't I? Nothing more!" She got up, fuming and raced away to her room. God. She couldn't stand Ron; he was so immature sometimes! Honestly, how could he say something so fucking immature? Bloody idiot!

She grabbed her diary and scribbled some lines on it to make herself feel better, and then collapsed into a fitful sleep. 

* * * * *

Ron stared at Hermione's retreating back for a few seconds, a little dazed. Well, he thought grimly, all my chances are up now anyway. He liked her, yes, but he was realizing more and more that it was going to be the kind of fancy you never did anything about. If she ever knew…he mused, what would she say? Would she be stunned? Or worse, would she laugh? Ron wondered if Hermione fancied Harry. Many girls did, he knew. He was sick and tired of girls coming up to him only to ask about Harry's whereabouts. Harry was supposedly "second hottest" guy in the school, according to all of Ginny's friends. They had only giggled when he asked who was number one, but Ron knew it wasn't a Gryffindor. Probably Malfoy, he thought with contempt. Goddamn Malfoy. 

Speaking of Harry, where was he? He'd been missing for hours now. Ron had a vague recollection of Harry scowling and saying that he'd felt obliged to help Pansy in their potions project, but that was a godawful lot of time staring over a bubbling potion. Slowly he walked down to one of the empty classrooms where many students chose to do projects. He only knew about them because Hermione frequented them; they were her "extra-credit" rooms. Only one of the rooms was in use. He walked up to it and opened it, and to his horror…

"It's not what you think, Ron!" Harry said, breathlessly. Pansy only smiled smugly. 

"It's exactly what you think," she whispered, but Ron picked it up anyway.

"For once she's right!" he yelled at Harry. "What the hell are you doing, sticking your tongue down her throat?"

Pansy picked up her books and exited quietly. "See ya later, Potter," she said, smirking. Ron scowled at her as she left.

"Harry, what is wrong with you?"

"Honestly she threw herself at me; I wasn't kissing her of my own accord, I promise!" Ron looked at Harry, and as much as he wanted to believe his best friend, was still a little hesitant.

"I hope that's the truth, Harry. Don't let her screw you over…you know what Pansy's reputation is." A red-faced Ron quickly left Harry standing there, looking bemused.

* * * * *

Draco paced his common room, a little worried now. Pansy had been gone an awfully long time, and he was getting worried that she might actually be getting somewhere. He paced nervously. If he lost the bet, he was completely screwed. He did not want Pansy hanging around on his arm, that would be the worst torture anyone could subject him to. Finally, after what seemed forever, Pansy showed up. Her lips were swollen so Draco knew she'd gotten somewhere. This could not be happening. He, _the_ Draco Malfoy, sex god of Slytherin, could not be losing.

"Well?" He asked expectantly.

"Well, what?"

"Are you succeeding or not?"

"Oh baby. Give me a week and I'll have him. He's so much easier than I thought." 

Draco scowled. C'mon, Potter, he thought angrily, _where is your resistence?_ "How far did you get?" he asked, trying to seem casual.

"Oh…two deep, passionate kisses. If that damn Weasley hadn't walked in right then I bet I could have him go down on me." Draco screwed up his nose as a nasty mental image came to his mind. For the first time he cursed himself for being a pervert.

"Weasley walked in?" For once, he was grateful that Weasley existed. Very grateful.

"Yes. Stupid twat. Anyway, Draco, it looks like I'll be winning. Love you, and later…good night." With that she turned and went upstairs.

"We can't have that, can we?" he muttered to himself. No. It was time to take drastic measures.

The next morning, Draco knew exactly what he had to do. He caught up with Granger as she was walking down for breakfast. Luckily she was alone.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she snapped at him.

"Must you always be so harsh? I only have a proposition."

"A proposition? What is it?" she said, looking suspicious.

"Look. I happen to know that Potter and Pansy snogged last night."

She turned abruptly. "You're not shitting me?"

"Ooh, watch that language, Granger. But no, I'm not 'shitting' you. As much as it disgusts me, I am not kidding."

She nodded. "That's horrible. Disgusting mental images."

"Tell me about it. I got some more explicit details of what _would_ have happened from Pansy last night." They both cracked up, and Draco was really surprised. Agreeing with Granger? Was insanity taking over the world?

"So, what does that have to do with you and me?"

"Very simple, really. In all honesty, would you really want to let your best friend sleep with the slut of Slytherin…no, the slut of the entire school? She's only going to play him."

Granger screwed up her nose. "No. Of course I wouldn't. And I presume you wouldn't want to see your girlfriend screwing Harry?"

"Granger! Disgusting! She's not my girlfriend, watch your mouth. Ordinarily, I'd love it if Potter got screwed over, but…well, you see, I'm a conniving little bastard."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"I always play dirty. You can't expect me to not cheat. A few days ago, Pansy and I made a bet that she couldn't sleep with Potter…god knows why she wants to…by the end of this month. If she did, I was supposed to be her boyfriend…only if hell freezes over…for the rest of the year. If she didn't, she was never going to bother me again. You see where I'm coming from?"

She looked at him straight in the eye. "So obviously you come to me for help. Ooh, to the mud blood, now?"

He flinched. "Um, sorry…well, would you like to…show your bad side, and…I don't know, break them up?" He smiled seductively, and she was instantly taken.

"Let's shake on it," he said, a wolfish grin appearing on his face. That's it, Granger, he thought as their hands met for a fiery shake. Pansy, you've basically just lost.

A/N: REVIEW!!!!


	5. Chap 5: Doubts and Proposals

Delusion Chapter 5

Hermione walked away from him, feeling a little baffled. What she had just done was so rash, oh so very rash, especially for someone like her. She had always taken time to explore the situation; to really know what she was getting into. And here—when _Malfoy_ of all people had come up to her with a very rash and very precarious looking situation—she had agreed instantly. Why had she done that? She wasn't a bloody idiot, obviously something must've compelled her to do such a stupid, rash thing, working with Malfoy indeed! 

By the time she reached her dorm, Hermione's had second guessed all of her moves and had already made a decision that she was never going to help Malfoy. After all, she trusted Harry. He wasn't stupid enough to…Hermione couldn't even bring herself to say the words in her head. Disgusting! And sadly, Malfoy had been dead serious about the whole thing. Dead serious. Oh, was she screwed, or was she screwed. She hadn't a clue as to what to do; should she listen to Malfoy and 'break them up' as he so kindly put it, or should she trust Harry's judgement?

Wearily Hermione entered her common room, her thoughts exhausting her before she'd even gotten to any homework. She found Harry there, sitting on the couch with a bit of a stupid grin on his face.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, a little unsure.

"Oh, hello, Hermione…" he said dreamily. "I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Oh, stuff, you know…when Voldemort's coming back, how I'm going to die most likely…"

"Harry, stop. It's not funny," she said, feeling a little irritated. "I know that's not what's on your mind. What's up?"

He sighed and got up. "You might as well go ask Ron."

"Why? Harry, you better tell me," Hermione said abruptly, her bossy side taking over.

He groaned and sat back down. "Look, it's more of that feelings crap you helped me with back in fifth year."

Hermione wanted to giggle, but the feel of laughter was quickly replaced when she remembered whom, according to Malfoy, Harry had been snogging just last night. "Okay. Tell me."

"You won't laugh…or worse, gag?"

Hermione sighed. "No, I won't."

"Well…Merlin, Mione, I thought I hated Pansy."

"I thought you did too," she said, softly.

"But I don't know," Harry was saying. "Last night, she came onto me when we were working on that potion. At first I was like, God, get away from me, but honestly…it felt…nice afterwards. It wasn't that bad, and I was thinking, you know maybe she's changed, maybe…" He trailed off, looking up at her.

Hermione, however, was barely listening. It was all true then, this little spat between Malfoy and herself. Harry was smitten with someone who would only play him, it was only a bet, and yet--she didn't want to hurt Harry by telling him it was only a bet. No, she _would_, of all the horrible things to do, have to work with Malfoy and screw this relationship. In spite of herself, Hermione felt a little quiver of excitement--for the first time, she would teeter on the bad side.

"Hermione? Hermione?" Harry was saying. She blinked, a little surprised she'd zoned out on him.

"Sorry, Harry," she said. "I was listening, it's just that…that's so weird." Hermione was a little shocked at herself, lying to him like that, but if she was going to be bad, then she might as well get started. 

* * * * * * 

Ron lived for simplicity, and at this point in his life, it seemed a very unattainable goal. On one hand, his best friend had been kissing a slut, who was likely to bed him and dump him. On the other hand, he himself was smitten with his other best friend, to the point where he was a little afraid to talk to her. He didn't want to make a move on her. He smiled wryly as he thought about her reaction, something he often did. She'd laugh, he was sure. Or she'd cry. 

Smiling almost sadly, Ron walked into the common room, and saw Hermione and Harry on the couch, deeply immersed in conversation. 

"Hi," he called out to them.

Hermione looked up. "Hey, Ron," she said, smiling. Ron wanted to run; he didn't need to see her smile, not when he was planning on getting over her as soon as possible. 

"What's up?" He asked, trying to be nonchalant.

"Oh, we're just discussing a little problem of Harry's," she said. Ron was tickled. He noticed almost an evil glint in her eye, and fought the urge to laugh. She was taking it too hard, he was sure that Pansy had forced Harry to kiss her, like Harry had claimed. 

"All right," he said. He turned to Harry, who was looking a little sullen. No doubt Hermione had screamed at him for letting Pansy snog him like that. "You want to play a game of chess?" he asked him. "It'll get your mind off…things," he said, shooting a pointed glare at Hermione, who immediately got up.

"Yes, Harry," she said, rather distractedly, Ron thought. "Play. I'll be back. I need to make a little visit to the library." Ron snorted.

"Of course. It's your second home."

* * * * * *

Draco sat in his common room, flipping absent mindedly through a Quidditch magazine. All his thoughts were on this stupid bet. Why had he even made a bet with Pansy? It had just seemed so sexy, the idea of a bet that screwed Pansy. Until, of course, she started winning. Conniving little bitch, he thought angrily. He had obviously forgotten that she _was_ rather good at this whole seducing business. In fact, until you really knew her, you'd think she was pretty and sexy. And even if you knew her reputation, she had ways around it. "I've changed, Harry," she would say to him. And he'd believe her, because she'd show some of her cleavage while she said it.

He threw the magazine onto the cold floor and decided to take a walk to get his mind off things. Or, better, yet, he would start planning ways to break them up. It would be quite entertaining seeing Granger like that. His features twisted up into a wicked grin as he thought of all the fun he would have.

As he walked around the corridors, he noticed his feet were carrying him towards the library. He smirked. Everyone knew where Granger would be. And sure enough, before he had even turned into the library, she came up to him.

"I've looked everywhere for you!" she said, scowling.

He smirked. "I know. I'm irresistible. But you will have to wait your turn." He flipped the shaggy blonde hair, knowing it was a move that would make poor Granger weak at her knees. He enjoyed teasing her, showing her a glimpse of something she'd never have.

He was a little surprised when she didn't even flinch. "Yeah, whatever, there's no point in calling you a conceited bastard because it only inflates your ego even further. Anyway, down to business."

"So you believe me now?" He asked, remembering her hesitation in the morning.

She sighed. "I just had a talk with Harry, and you're…as much as I hate to admit it…completely right." He smirked as she continued. "Well, you're the one with the plan. I can only help."

"What, Granger? Brains don't assist you in these areas?" He asked.

"Shut your trap," she snapped. "Just hurry up and form a bloody plan."

"Language, Granger," he said lazily. She looked so sexy when she was mad. 

"You sound like Snape," she replied.

This brought him out of his reverie and he began to talk in earnest. "Okay. Here is what we'll do. Obviously Potter is into Pansy. The first thing we need to do is baffle Pansy. And that's where you come in." He stopped to check if she was following, rather enjoying the rapt attention she paid him. God, he'd become a teacher just to have her stare at him like that. Incredibly sexy. "You will become quite friendly with Pansy over the next few days. You know, be nice, make friends. She'll be so bloody confused her attention will divert from Potter. And when she complains about it, Potter will be surprised she's being so rude."

Hermione's eyes were no longer glassy with attention. In fact she was frowning and looked a little annoyed. "I don't want to be friends with her," she said, pouting.

"Don't act like a baby," he snapped. "If you want to help your friend, I suggest you do so. And don't worry, it's only the first step. It'll be a blast."

She sighed. "Fine."

"Good. Give me a report in three days' time. I'll be getting a lot of Pansy's story, but I need your side of it to continue."

"Till then, Malfoy." 

"Oh, and wait," he said lazily. "If we're going to work together, you best be calling me Draco. It'll come in handy in a little while."

A/N: Yeah, I'm having writer's block! Please REVIEW!!!!! REVIEW!!! REVIEW!!! And if you like this story, this isn't even my best fic. Please read THE ENEMY!!! 

REVIEW!

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	6. Chap 6: Merlin's Mukluks

Delusion Chapter 6 

DISCLAIMER: I will most likely forget to put it up again so read carefully so I don't get sued: I don't own the HP characters. I'm merely playing with them. I do, however, own the plot. Please don't take it.

Hermione scowled as she sat down at her favorite spot in the library. Make friends with _Pansy? _Obviously Draco was out of his bloody mind…in fact, she'd always thought he was a little on the loony side…

She groaned.

How in Merlin's name was she going to complete such a task?

For once, Hermione decided to forgo homework. After all, Harry's well being was more important than a three-foot long page of parchment on wizards of the eighteenth century.

Suddenly she realized she had no clue where to find Pansy. It wasn't as if she could just barge into the Slytherin common room and ask if any of the gits had seen her. 

In fact, if she knew Pansy, she was probably in the middle of a heated snog-fest. Slut of the school…and Hermione had to _befriend_ her?

"I should be hexing her," Hermione muttered.

After careful deliberation, Hermione decided to find Harry. After all, he was the cause of all this…working with Malfoy crap. He probably knew where Parkinson was.

She found Harry reading some Quidditch magazine in the common room. "Hey," she said, sitting down next to him.

"Hey," he replied, without bothering to take his eyes off the magically enhanced text of the magazine.

"Harry, look up when people are talking to you. It tends to be good manners."

He grinned sheepishly and shut the magazine. "Sorry," he said quickly. "How can I be of assistance?"

"Oh, Harry, stop. I just wanted to know where Pansy Parkinson was?"

"How should I know?"

"Hmm…maybe because you've had your tongue down her throat before?"

Harry scowled. "Hermione, give it a rest. I swear it was a mistake. Anyhow, I've told you already, she's changed…"

"Changed my arse. But let's not have this conversation now, really. All I want to know is, where do you think she would be right now?"

"Why don't you talk to her at dinner? That's only fifteen minutes from now."

Hermione, who had been poised to say something, stopped with her jaw opened. She felt so stupid; it wasn't often that she missed the obvious, after all. "Oh. Yes. I will."

* * * * * * *

Draco sauntered down to the Great Hall, knowing that his arrogant walk would turn many a girl's head. He heard an all too familiar voice behind him and turned. Pansy slid into a comfortable walk next to him and began chattering away.

"Draco, I haven't seen you all day!"

"What are you talking about? You're in my _house_! We have the same classes!"

"Not like that. I mean in a leisurely way."

He scowled, having no desire to spend his free time in the presence of Pansy.

"Anyhow, we need to talk about this little bet, darling boyfriend of mine."

"I don't know, Pansy. I think I might just win," he smirked, taking pleasure at her little look of surprise.

"How can you even think that, Draco? After all, Potter is more than ready to have sex with me."

Draco was glad that they had finally reached the Great Hall. This was definitely a conversation he was not willing to pursue.

********

After dinner, during which she had endured countless Quidditch debates, Hermione slipped off to roam the halls for Pansy. Never in a million years would she have thought she would actually be looking for Pansy.

As luck would have it, Hermione was able to find Pansy in the corridors leading to the Slytherin common room.

"Hey, Pansy," she called out. 

Pansy turned around slowly so that her blonde hair flipped behind her. Hermione mused if Pansy always turned around that way, just in case some boy was watching.

She looked awfully surprised to see Hermione standing there. "What?" she asked suspiciously. Hermione wanted to laugh. Until of course, she remembered that she had absolutely nothing to say to Pansy.

"Um… I like those shoes!"

Hermione bit her lip in an effort to keep from groaning. Pansy's sharp pink stilettos would never fit into a good category for herself, but if she was going to be friends with Pansy, she might as well get used to these sorts of tastes…hopefully Harry would hurry up and get over his infatuation so that everything could go back to normal.

Pansy twisted her foot in unease. Once again, Hermione had to fight the urge to laugh. 

"You basically came down here to tell me that?" Pansy asked slowly.

"Er…well, you know me and my bad fashion sense. I've never seen shoes like them. They're so…bright." Hermione mentally slapped herself. She could have thought of a better adjective…bright, indeed…Pansy wasn't going to buy this. 

"True," Pansy said. "You have terrible fashion sense."

"I know."

Hermione sighed. The only way to befriend Pansy was a joint effort in making fun of…Hermione herself.

"But you got something done over the summer, no?"

"Cousin's wedding. She made me not frizz my hair, and the spell I got is supposed to last for a year."

"That's all you changed?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it must have cost you a fortune. Your hair was a nest of frizz."

Hermione racked her brains for another conversation. She really did not want to discuss how much money she'd spent on de-frizzing her head, which was still, by the way, quite curly…although it had grown out, and the curls had tamed rather naturally.

"Er, where did you get those shoes?" Great, Hermione thought. Back to the shoes again. Why couldn't she think of anything else, goddamn it?

"Oh these? Merlin's Mukluks. I doubt you could afford them."

"No, I probably couldn't," Hermione agreed faintly.

"Hey," Pansy said suddenly. "You did the History of Magic essay, right, on the wizards of what was it…"

"Eighteenth century? Well, I did half."

"How long is it supposed to be?"

"I think two feet but I've already gotten to three…and I've only done half! I better go finish, I'll see you around Pansy!"

"Er…you too."

As Hermione raced to her common room, she couldn't help but let out a chuckle at Pansy's bemused expressions.

*******

Draco was relaxing in the common room when a very frazzled looking Pansy just came in. Draco smirked; he was pretty sure Granger had done a little bit of talking. 

"What's up?" he asked casually.

"The weirdest thing just happened…"

"Do tell."

"Well…Granger came up to me and told me she liked my shoes."

Draco let out a guffaw. Leave it to Granger, he thought. Oh, just leave it to Granger. This was going to work _so well…_

A/N: To those of you that asked, that twinge of humor is intentional. I'm glad you enjoy it. Please REVIEW, believe me I wasn't planning on updating this story for weeks but since I got reviews I felt more excited to do so. Thanks to all reviewers, I hope you liked this chapter, I know not much happened but I felt it was necessary. Plus Pansy is now officially confused. 


	7. Chap 7: The Big Picture

Delusion Chapter 7 (at last)

Harry sat in Potions, thankful that it was only a lecture period and he could doodle and daydream in peace. He couldn't believe it, but his heartbeat became faster every time he saw Pansy. She wasn't bad looking in the least, but what surprised him the most was probably how _nice_ she was. Everything he had thought about her, he was beginning to forget with every word he spoke to her. He looked in her direction. She was busy whispering to Malfoy—he cringed in disgust. Surely he wasn't jealous? He had only known Pansy for a short period of time, though…maybe she had a 'thing' with Malfoy. Or maybe not; after all, Malfoy was notorious for flavors of the week. Maybe she'd been one of them a long time ago. Or maybe they were just friends, or she was asking him for help, or…he clutched his head in exasperation. When did he start caring so much? 

Suddenly he realized that everyone was packing up; the lesson was over. "Hey, wait up, guys," he called out to Hermione and Ron. 

He heard Hermione sigh distinctly. "How could you not realize that Potions—of all classes, honestly!—wasn't over?"

"Just daydreaming," Harry replied quickly.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Hurry up," he said as he hauled them to the door. "I want to eat."

"Are you ever not hungry?" Hermione snapped.

Ron scowled at Hermione. "Are you in a bad mood or something?" 

"Genius," she replied darkly.

Ron muttered something which sounded rather similar to "PMS" and Harry had to snigger. 

"Oh, you two!" Hermione snapped and stormed off ahead of them.

"What's gotten into her?" Ron asked curiously.

Harry shrugged, his thoughts once again occupied by Pansy. "Dunno," he answered.

"Well, haven't you talked to her lately?"

Harry shook his head. "Well, not since…I asked her to the dance…" Harry restrained himself from slapping his head as he recalled that he had asked Hermione to the dance. Shit, he thought, his mind still on Pansy. He wanted to take Pansy to the dance, not Hermione…Hermione would understand, wouldn't she?

"Ron," Harry said quickly, turning to his best friend as they made their way to the Great Hall, "Do you have a date for the dance?"

Ron gave him a look. "Of course. Otherwise I was going to take Hermione but you took her instead even though you knew why I wanted to take her!" Ron said in one breath.

"I thought you were over her," Harry said sheepishly.

Ron scoffed. "I'm trying, I'm trying." Harry got the notion that he wanted to say something else but was thoroughly distracted by the smells wafting out of the Great Hall.

* * * * * * 

Hermione's thoughts were on the dance as she studied. She closed her book with a sigh, giving up on it. Just a few minutes ago, Harry had asked her if she'd found a date to the dance.

"Harry, I'm going with you, remember?" she had said slowly, as realization dawned on her.

"Well, you…wouldn't mind…terribly if I found someone that I really wanted…no, don't take that the wrong way…I fancy you a lot as a friend but I kind of wanted to ask…" he had trailed off, looking nervous.

She knew perfectly well who he wanted to ask, and with resignation had said, "Go ahead Harry. It's perfectly all right. I understand."

Harry had smiled gratefully and scuttled off. Now, Hermione was in the library thinking about her recent conversation.

She buried her face in her hands. He's so right, she thought contemptuously. As much as she hated to admit it, Malf—oh, well, she might as well call him Draco, had hit the nail on the head with this one. Harry was infatuated with that bloody little Pansy! 

"Something bothering you, Granger?" A low-pitched drawl echoed in her section of the library.

She looked up to see Draco grinning—no, smirking—down at her. "First off, you asked me to call you Draco. So you better call me Hermione. And you know perfectly well what's bothering me," she said, annoyed.

"Actually, no I don't. Unless your still hung up on the Potty likes Parkinson thing."

Hermione smiled. For once, she knew something Mal—Draco didn't! "Well, actually…Harry just told me that he'd rather take Pansy to the dance instead of me."

Malfoy laughed. "So how does rejection feel?" he asked. "I wouldn't know. Nobody's ever rejected me before."

Hermione glared at him. "He didn't _reject_ me," she said patiently, as if explaining to a young child. "We're only friends and he said he really wanted to go with someone that he fancied as more than a friend."

"Are you planning on showing face at the dance then?"

"If you didn't hear, it's bloody mandatory! How could Dumbledore do that?"

Malfoy (she had given up trying to think of him as 'Draco') smirked. "I always said he deserved a spot in the loony bin, but does anyone ever listen to me?"

Hermione shut her book with a snap. "Draco, why are you here?" she said, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Don't break your broomsticks, Hermione," Malfoy said coolly. "I happen to think that the dance is the perfect opportunity to break them up for good."

Hermione softened her glare. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. "Okay, tell me."

"Hold on. I'm committing this to memory. The time _Hermione _ talked to me civilly."

"Stop being such a prick! Just tell me already or I won't help you with your bloody plan!"

"You'll help me no matter what," he said seriously. "You're the kind of person that cares about other people, you know, and you wouldn't want to see Potter get hurt, right?"

Hermione was a little surprised that Malfoy would have enough perception to realize the basic concept. "Well, yes."

"Good. Now Pansy will snog anyone who's got lips and doesn't have a tail, all right?"

Hermione stared at him, open-mouthed. Did he mean… "I am _not_ snogging Pansy, you moron!" she shrieked.

Malfoy snickered. "Relax, no, that's not what my plan was, although it would make a nice scene…" he quickly trailed off when he noticed Hermione raising her hand in striking motion. It was Hermione's turn to smirk. He was probably remembering a dark time in his life, the time she'd slapped him…

"Well then who's Pansy supposed to snog?"

"Weasley."

"Draco, seriously, you call this a _plan_? Ron wouldn't snog Pansy if she was the last girl on earth and it's not like Pansy would agree either, plus wouldn't Harry be mad?"

"The last part's the point, you idiot."

"Oh," Hermione said in a small voice. "But still, how's it going to work…"

"If you'd only let me explain without interrupting! Gods, how can teachers stand you?"

Hermione did not say anything. She wasn't about to interrupt him, now, was she?

He scowled. "I hate you."

"I hate you too. But if we're going to work on this stupid thing together then we might as well get it done with."

"All right then. The plan's really quite simple. You know that the dance is being held in the Great Hall, right?"

She nodded and motioned for him to continue.

"Well there's this broom closet in the left corner where a lot of people go to, you know…"

"Actually, no, I don't. But I'm listening," she said impatiently. 

"Figures you wouldn't."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she yelled back at him. How dare he imply…okay, even if she hadn't really snogged anyone before, but he had no right to say that!

"You know what it means, Hermione. Anyhow, where was I? Oh yes. Snogging. Well, you, being Potty's bes—"

"Can you please not call him 'Potty'? It's really distracting," Hermione said, annoyed. 

"Will you just bloody let me get through this! Honestly!"

"I'm trying!" she replied, crabbily. "But you're just being such an arse about it…"

"Now _I'm_ the one being an arse?! Well at least I don't look like one, unlike a certain someone sitt—"

But Hermione never let him finish his thought. Before he knew what had happened, he was under the influence of a personal favorite of Hermione—Jelly Legs curse. "Now you listen to me, _Malfoy_," she warned dangerously. "I am working with you for the well-being of my friend Harry. If you _dare_ insult me one more time with another inane comment, I will hex you to hell and back! Do you understand that?"

He nodded weakly. 

"And what do you say?" she demanded, tapping her foot on the cold tile of the library.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"And?"

"It won't happen again."

"It better not happen again, or you are going to be in the worst fucking predicament of your life. I say truce—I'm not going to insult your slimy little git-arse and you won't insult me. Until this stupid thing is over."

He nodded. "I'll try. But since you got one last insult, can I get one too?"

She rolled her eyes, but nodded.

"You have terrible breath."

* * * * * * * 

Draco smirked as he watched her mouth open and close furiously. Her breath was fine, he supposed, but it didn't hurt to have her worry about it. Instinctively, she moved a couple of inches away from him. 

"Anyhow," he said amiably. "Where were we? Oh yes, my plan, before I was rudely interrupt—"

"You were not. You deserved it." She was staring at him furiously. He wanted to laugh. Annoying her was so much fun!

"See, there you go again! We've wasted twenty minutes and I haven't even told you the bloody plan!"

"Ok. I'm listening. And I won't interrupt."

"Good girl," he said appreciatively. When she was quiet, she looked beautiful—although, ironically, she wasn't really beautiful. He didn't understand why he found her so bloody hot. "All right. So, you, being a good friend of _Potter_, see, notice, I didn't call him Potty, are going to tell Parkinson that he's waiting for her in that closet. She'll believe you because you talked to her the other day, and you're good friends with Potter. So she'll go there."

"Okay. How are you planning on getting Ron there?"

"Well, to put it simply, you're going to tell him to meet you there." He grinned devilishly. The Weasel's massive fancy was quite obvious to everyone.

To his surprise, Hermione grimaced. "Ugh. I don't want to even think about that."

A little unnerved, Draco asked cautiously. "Don't you know he fancies you?"

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "He does?" she asked meekly.

Uh-oh, Draco thought. Shit. "Um…no, of course not. But tell him that anyway. He'll probably think you arranged some hot hook-up for him. And that closet is really dark, and Pansy'll snog him thinking it's Potter and Weasley will snog her thinking it's you, I mean, some hot hook-up, and then you're going to tell Potter that Pansy's waiting for him and he'll open it and see Weasley and Parkinson and…" he trailed off, embarrassed and annoyed at himself for letting that slip.

"He fancies me," Hermione said dully.

"You didn't hear a word I said, did you," he asked more to himself than to her.

"I did," she said absentmindedly. "How do you know he fancies me?"

He sighed. "I'm just naturally perceptive in these matters," he said lightly. 

"Do a lot of people know?"

"Oh, no" he lied. "Nobody's got the bloody brains to figure it out," he continued, as if it was all a joke.

"Could you stop joking for once?" she snapped irritably. "This is bad. This is so bad."

"Why?" he asked, although he thought the same thing. Granger didn't really go well with Weasley. Yes, that was it. They would make a godawful couple.

"Well…it explains a lot and…oh, you wouldn't understand. Nice plan, Draco. I'll see you later."

Before he could say anything, she had left the library. He noticed she had left some papers behind on accident. Curiously, he leafed through them. Homework, homework, extra credit, homework, and…what was this? The handwriting, he realized, was his own. It was a note he'd given her once, he recalled, last year, when he had to meet her somewhere or the other for Prefect duties and couldn't find her. But why was she still keeping it?

A/N: I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get an update out! I've been really busy and stuff, though! A huge thanks to reviewers. Just something I need to clear up:

ThisDamnedAngel: Thanks, I knew sexy wasn't used often in British language (I have an aunt that's from Britain) but it slipped my mind until I had too many chapters to really do anything about it. It's a huge mistake, I know, but I hope it doesn't impact the story too much. Oh and yes I have read "I hate everything about you" by Ceres Vesta. Awesome story it is, too. Once again, I really appreciated your reviews!

I love all of you for reviewing. Yes, last chapter- Draco was incredibly impressed. Next chapter's going to be the dance (at last…). I'll try to get it out sooner, I've got a break right now so I can write! Reviews for this chapter would be massively appreciated. Thanks!


	8. Chap 8: Change of Plans

Delusion Chapter 8 

A/N: Okay, yeah, so I took off the author's note that I had in here a long time ago, so it looks like this is another "chapter 8" according to fan fiction, even though last chapter was really chapter 7, so you might've already reviewed "Chapter 8", but could you do it again, please? I ask because this is the one we've all been waiting for. Lol, if anyone's actually reading this.

Draco fingered the note delicately and carefully extracted it from her books. Oh, yes…he thought gleefully. This would make a lovely addition to his steadily growing Things To Blackmail Idiots With collection. Then suddenly, he realized that by taking it away, Granger…er, Hermione, he supposed, would lie and say she'd never had the blasted thing anyway and his plan would be in ruins. Oh, no. The best thing was just to ask her about it. 

He grinned wolfishly. Perhaps she'd _fancied_ him at one point? He was a little surprised that the thought didn't disgust him as he thought it would; in fact, he found it rather amusing. A lot of girls fancied him, he knew, and what fun it would be if Granger turned out to be one of them! 

Shrugging, he put the note back in the middle of her papers and left them sitting in the library. Sure, he was working with her and all that rot, but he was still a Malfoy and Malfoys didn't just sporadically do nice things such as returning papers to someone just because they'd forgotten them somewhere. He walked back to his common room, a little tired as the evening approached, and let his thoughts explore the possibilities of his new plan to beat Pansy. 

Speaking of the devil, the girl walked up to him as soon as he entered his common room. "Draco," she stated simply. "I want a word."

He immediately established his cool demeanor and gave her a bored look. "Really, now." 

"About the bet."

His interest peaked, he sat down on one of the cold armchairs strewn around the Slytherin common room. "Go on."

"Look," she said, playing with a lock of her hair, "this bet…I…it's not nice."

Draco was caught completely off guard. "What are you talking about?" he sputtered. "Parkinson! _We are Slytherins! We are never nice! We love to have fun at other people's expense!_ Have you got something in your knickers?" he yelled.

Pansy gave an exaggerated sigh. "Look, let's just call it off. You can have the one hundred galleons and I won't ask you to be my boyfriend for the rest of this year." 

Draco was unnerved, almost panicky, really. "Seriously, Parkinson," he asked, feeling a little worried. "Did you have too much of the cake at dinner, then? Remember, last time you did that, you felt a bit funny, maybe you're just feeling that way again…"

He trailed off as Pansy interrupted him. "No, Draco, this is for real. I don't want to do the bet anymore."

Draco scowled childishly. He wanted to win the bet, but not by having Pansy forfeit! "You can't just _stop_," he drawled, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "You know the unwritten codes of Slytherin betting."

"Well, yeah," she admitted, and he could tell she was a tad nervous, "but I'm letting you win, aren't I?"

"There's no fun in winning if I don't actually beat you," he hissed. "Anyhow, why do you have this sudden urge to stop screwing with Potter's brains? You hate Potter! Don't you…don't you…oh, shit…"

Pansy's normally reddish complexion had turned even redder and she looked down at the cold stone.

"Pansy!" 

"Draco, don't be a prat about it, really," she said, trying to look calm, but he could see the tears forming in her eyes. He scowled. Tears for Potter?!

"You fancy the Boy-Who-Has-No-Brains, then?"

"No, not really, well, yes, actually, but not a lot, well…a lot really then, but not to the point where I'd betray…well, maybe I would…but, yes, I guess I do," she concluded, looking listless.

Draco bit his lip in frustration. Well, he decided spontaneously, which was a little odd for him because he normally used well-thought out plans, immaculate to the tiniest detail, and here Pansy was, ruining his lovely plan to beat her in the blasted bet…well, he'd just have to break them up anyway. He and Granger'd have to take it into power drive. There was no way in hell he could have such a Slytherin like Pansy fancy Potter, and Potter already fancied her anyway because of her charms…Gods! "You're crazy, Pansy," he finally said, trying to sound accepting of her little forfeit.

"Well…maybe I am. And you really should get to know Harry, he's a nice kid…doesn't deserve to be played like this," she said, looking directly at him.

"Oh, so now's he's _Harry_, then? Well, Pansy, why don't you go and keep your stupid Potter, I don't want anything to do with you!" he yelled angrily.

"I figured you wouldn't," she said softly, and turned towards her dormitories.

Draco took one last opportunity to insult her decision as she left. "You've gone soft, Parkinson!" he yelled, clear across the common room. "You've gone so bloody soft! You're just setting yourself up for trouble…you know it would never work…your mother, my mother…"

Pansy swung around, her eyes flickering dangerously. "That may be, Draco," she said. "But guess what. I don't like you anymore. And what do you care anyway? I'm always Parkinson-the-pug-faced-bitch around you. You think I don't hear your blasted insults, you think I'm immune to you, but I can't take it anymore. Yeah, maybe I did fancy your fucking body for a bit but guess what, I don't fancy _you_. You think you are so bloody hot, you…you're always making fun of me, Draco! Why do you care now? Just because I've gone for a so-called pansy like Harry? Well, at least he's _sensitive to my feelings_!" she yelled and stomped up the dormitory, slamming the door behind her in a soap-opera fashion.

Draco stood there, flabbergasted. Merlin. Oh, bloody Merlin, purgatory, and back…what had he done to get into this one? Girls!

It was time to talk to Granger. What exactly had Potty done to Parkinson?

* * * * * * * 

Hermione scowled as she realized she'd left her papers in the library. After dinner she made her way down to the library, Ron in tow. "So, Hermione," Ron began. Hermione sighed. She didn't realize that talking to Ron was going to be so different when she knew…well, when she knew _it_. She couldn't exactly bring herself to say it.

"Yes?" she asked casually, as she bent to pick up her papers, and then she froze. There, in the middle of them, was that stupid note that she'd kept…

What if Malfoy had seen it? He'd probably get the wrong idea, the pervert that he was…and she had only been trying to keep a bit of Slytherin with her, something to remember her very first fancy by…

She tuned out Ron as she thought about first year, on the train. She hadn't talked to him at that point, but his hair had looked so soft and smooth, and it was silky…it was the hair she'd always wanted, and her eleven-year-old self was unconsciously drawn to his charms. Then, he'd opened his mouth to speak, and all the feelings she'd felt had disappeared. The soft blonde hair was no longer a symbol of beauty but it just meant Malfoy. She'd hated him from then on, up till today of course, but the very first feeling she'd felt about him hadn't been hate or anger. It had been a combination of envy and an eleven-year-old form of lust.

And so she'd kept the stupid note, just to remind herself. She'd have to burn it, really. She couldn't just go around leaving it everywhere.

"Hermione," Ron was demanding furiously. "You haven't heard a word I've said."

"Oh, sorry, Ron," she said, mentally berating herself for zoning out about a piece of parchment. "What were you saying?"

He groaned. "Remember? You were complaining about not having a date to the dance after Harry, well, ditched you?"

"What is this with you and Malfoy, he did _not_ reject me!"

But Ron was staring at her, aghast. "Malfoy?" he asked slowly. "How does he come up?"

Hermione faltered, annoyed at herself for letting that tiny but important detail slip. "Er…" she began bravely, wishing she could come up with an excuse.

"Why, hello there, Weasel," she heard a cold, familiar drawl behind her. She turned around, fully expecting to see Malfoy smirking at them, and there he…wasn't?

"Where did that come from?" she asked Ron, surprised. He looked just as discombobulated as her. 

"I really don't know," he said, looking around wildly.

"Over here, you bloody dungbomb!" she heard the voice again, and funny, it sounded exactly like Malfoy, down to the very last insult, but where the hell was he?

"Sounds like Malfoy!" Ron said intelligently.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course it does. Someone must be playing a joke on us," she said sarcastically.

Unbelievably, Ron seemed to believe this. He poked behind a couple of books in the library and gave up. "Come out, whoever you are!" he called loudly. Hermione could tell he was getting a tad furious.

Hermione herself looked behind a couple of shelves and all but Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. Ron shook his head, confused. "That's really odd," he concluded.

"Too right it is," the voice said malevolently. "You are a bloody genius."

"What? No, I'm not," Ron said, now thoroughly confused. "Honestly, Hermione…"

Hermione snickered. Ron could be so funny sometimes, even when the fun was at his expense. "Just drop it, Ron," she said consolingly. "Go play a game of chess or something. I'm going to study for the Potions test."

"It's not for another three weeks, Hermione," Ron said patronizingly.

Hermione felt panicky at the very thought. "Three weeks!" she exclaimed, "Ron, move! I must study!"

Ron shrugged and exited the library. Hermione could tell he was still rather puzzled about the voice…actually, she was too.

"Hullo," she heard the same voice behind her. She swung around quickly, and there he was.

"Malfoy!" she exclaimed. "Where were you?"

He smirked. "I have my ways," he said. "Anyhow, I got you out of that stupid blunder you made."

Hermione nodded as she remembered the little slip of tongue she'd had earlier. "Oh, thanks," she said, trying to make sure that the 'thanks' didn't sound forced. After all, it wasn't very often that she apologized to Malfoy.

"Don't mention it," he said seriously. "And I mean it. Don't. Ever. Mention. It."

Hermione smirked. "I won't. Unless I have reason to."

Draco Malfoy, the King of Blackmailing, would surely understand the sentence. "We've got a problem," he said quickly, straight to the point.

"What? Your hair has started falling out?"

He rolled his eyes. "Very funny, Granger, oops, I mean _Hermione_. You're a bloody genius. No."

"Well then, what is it?" she asked impatiently.

"Pansy fancies the Wonder Idiot."

Hermione was taken aback. "You're joking," she said plainly, convincing herself that it really was a joke.

"Not quite," he continued grimly, and proceeded to tell her the entire story.

"Well, what're we going to do?" she asked worriedly. "I can't have Harry with Pansy, that's…not…cool."

"Obviously," he said, rolling his eyes. "We're just going to have to work harder. The dance is tomorrow night, Granger, and we are going to execute the plan exactly the way it's supposed to go."

"Well, what's that going to do? Maybe she really has changed or something…"

"No!" he said loudly. "Double the efforts! This cannot happen! It ruins Slytherins and Gryffindors and goddamnit, Gran—Her—Whatever, we are going to break them up, no matter what happens! _I never lose a bet!_"

Hermione smiled weakly at the intense display of anger before her. "Well, technically," she whispered. "You didn't lose it."

The sound of a potions book being slammed shut echoed throughout the library and a very disapproving Madam Pince threw out two students, one looking rather guilty and the other looking like he was ready to Avada someone.

A/N: Well, didn't get to the dance…yet…change of plans, wasn't it, lol…well, next chapter will be the dance, I thought this was a fair length chapter, like I said earlier, you might've already reviewed "chapter 8" but please do it again…hehe…if you have to, don't log in! Thanks!


	9. Chap 9: Dancing Queen

Delusion Chapter 9

A/N #1: I wish I had an excuse for the long wait but the simple explanation is that I am a huge procrastinator and I sort of…forgot…I hadn't updated this in a while. Anyway I am almost done with The Enemy (!), another fic of mine, so I'm going to have more time for this. Thanks!

Draco scowled. The dance was tonight, and Pansy had just dropped a bomb over his beautifully formulated plan, which was supposed to accomplish so many things, and here Pansy went and said "well, sorry, but I'm in love with a pure fuck and I have to call it quits because I suddenly turned good."

It was like a blasted soap opera.

The dance was tonight, and for the first time in his luxurious, easy life, Draco wasn't the man with the plan. He was a nobody, with absolutely no idea what he was going to do tonight because his original plan wasn't really going to work anymore. After all, the whole thrill had been in the beating Pansy thing, and now that she'd pulled the plug, he honestly (honestly! he'd been so caught up in the moment) didn't care who she shagged next. 

But he kind of enjoyed the Pansy wars, as he'd begun to call them in his head. And bringing out Granger's wicked side was _always_ a plus. He never got tired of it, seriously, it was fantastic. He snickered as he remembered that in his original plan, Granger had never caught the biggest issue. Get Potter and Weasley really, really mad at each other, which would make for excellent entertainment. Granger--Hermione--Mud blood--whatever had been so preoccupied with the inane details she had totally missed his side of The Big Picture. Heh. Life was good.

Until of course, last night, when Pansy had suddenly and awkwardly decided she loved Potter. 

Wait.

That was un-Pansy-like. Pansy was similar to Draco in that she liked to plan things out. Sure, she was annoying and bitchy and bratty and snobby and silly and all of that rot but…she wasn't _as_ stupid as you might think when you looked at the way she acted. In fact she had those moments when Draco was downright proud of her; the moments where she acting sly and deceiving and there had been that _one_ time she'd managed to get the best of him, too.

What if it was all an act and it was still going strong? But last night, the crying--fucking _crying_--had looked bloody realistic. And the whole sniffling and he-appreciates-me gig worked as well. Maybe she liked him a teensy bit, and was exaggerating. Hmm, that was very Pansy-esque behavior. In fact it fit Pansy like a wand, so to speak in cliched terms.

Gods. This was going to require a hell of a lot more thinking than he'd originally planned. Another thought struck poor, dismal Draco as he moped around the common room early that morning. He didn't have a date to the dance, which was in…seven hours. Seven hours to make a plan, inform Granger, find a date, and get dressed.

Shit.

******************

Hermione felt pretty relaxed as she woke up, that is, until huge panic attack hit her and she remembered today was _the_ day of the blasted dance, and _the_ day that the psychopath Malfoy came up with a new and probably more twisted plan! And to top it all off like whipped cream from the bottle she didn't even have a date to the dance. It's all right, she told herself, going solo was not equivalent of looking like an idiot.

Actually, in this stupid school, it was. Having a date was pretty much vital, and she was the perfect Hermione Granger--who dated Viktor Krum, for goodness sake, in fourth year--she had to have a date to the dance.

And she didn't. Oh bloody hell, this was more reason to pull Harry away from Pansy, after all he'd canceled their go-as-friends thing in favor of that wench. She'd stolen Hermione's passport to perfection! It was time for payback.

She got out of bed and tried to tune out Parvati and Lavender's constant dance gossip ("whose going with who, do you think?" "whose going with Harry Potter, do you think? "Whose going with Draco Malfoy, do you think? "Whose going with Sally Anne Perks, do you think?" and on and on and on) as she got dressed. Minutes later she was down in the Great Hall trying to send an aura charm to every boy in close proximity…but mentally. Well, maybe one of them was extra perceptive.

No such luck. Ron had a date. Harry had a date. Even Neville had a date! Desperately she scanned the Gryffindor table, checking for prospective dates. Hmm, Seamus maybe? Or perhaps Dean? "Seamus," she asked casually, trying to assert some of Parvati's confidence in her own voice, "who are you going to the dance with?"

"Lavender," he said simply as he picked up another slice of bacon (his fifth one, Hermione noticed with distaste). "Why? You don't have a date?"

Now Hermione had always been a rather truthful girl and even when faced with such a mean and uncaring question such as Seamus's, and she did glare quite pointedly, she wasn't going to lie. "No, Seamus, I do not," she said icily, in what she hoped was a condescending-I-am-so-above-this-childish-dance-business-and-if-Dumbledore-didn't-make-it-mandatory-I-wouldn't-set-foot-in-it voice. Seamus did not apparently catch her sarcasm and ice cold tone because he continued quite amiably.

"Oh, don't break your broomsticks, Dean here doesn't have a date either, do you, Dean?"

Dean was staring at some girl from Ravenclaw, but he looked away as he heard his name. "What's that, Seamus?" he said, helping himself to buttered toast.

"Do you have a date?" Seamus asked, taking yet another slice of bacon. Hermione felt rather ill looking at the two of them and at Dean's concern to the dance the thought of going with him was really waning in favor of going stag.

"To what?" Dean asked, biting into the toast. Hermione looked down as a little bit of butter dribbled down his chin. Dean is a very nice boy, she reminded himself. And he's nowhere near as bad as Ron when it comes to…_filthy_ eating habits, so she shouldn't really be so particular, should she?

"The dance, you dimwit," Seamus said, grabbing more bacon. That's eight slices, Hermione thought, feeling nauseated.

"Oh, no, I don't. Score me a girl yet?" Dean asked casually. Hermione clenched and unclenched her fists. She liked Dean, she really did, but he was so goddamn aggravating sometime! A woman was not a trophy, for Merlin's sake! Hermione felt her feminist autopilot beginning to drive her body and she warily turned it off. Now was not the time. Beggars can't be choosers, she reasoned, and Dean was one of the healthier crops in the field, so to speak.

"Well Hermione here doesn't have a date either," Seamus answered nonchalantly, taking more of the disgusting stuff he'd been shoveling down his throat.

"Really now?" Dean asked, pausing to wipe away the butter from his chin. "What d'you say, Hermione? Want to go to the ball with me?"

Hermione was quite surprised at his frankness and openness and confidence…right after he'd been eating in such a horrid way that a girl that was anything less than supremely desperate would run in the other direction. "Er, all right then," she managed, consoling herself that as long as she arrived on his arm, she would not look like an idiot and she wouldn't have to spend the rest of the evening with him anyway. She'd probably be too busy with Malfoy's plan to really bother with her date, either. Hopefully, with the way things were going.

"Then it's settled," Dean declared and joined Seamus in finishing off the last of the bacon.

*************

Meanwhile, a certain Draco Malfoy was scanning the Great Hall in search of a good-looking, smart, sexy, noticeable, ravishing, cool, and wonderful date. That wouldn't be too hard to find, would it? While it would have been easiest to take someone from Slytherin, he couldn't really see anyone who didn't have a date--or anyone that he hadn't turned down already. Millicent Bulstrode had asked him four days ago and he had made up an excuse about already having a date. Pansy was of course going with Harry. Sally Anne Perks was with Blaise Zabini (lucky Blaise! Sally Anne was supposed to be very, very good), and he didn't even know the names of the girls that weren't in his year. Fuck it. 

He did not even bother looking at the Hufflepuff table; no way in hell could he get near those goody-two-shoes. They probably wouldn't even have sex with him after the dance, even though that was pretty much inconceivable. Who wouldn't have sex with him when handed a golden platter with the words "My date is Malfoy I can have sex with him afterwards" right on it? If anyone, the Hufflepuffs, silly things that they were.

Ravenclaw seemed a good option. He'd always thought Mandy Brocklehurst was a very sexy looking girl; she was obviously smart because she was in Ravenclaw. As everyone scrambled for their book bags and began heading towards class, Draco caught up with Mandy Brocklehurst, hoping she didn't have a date already (otherwise he'd have to do some fast talking to convince her that her date was a worthless pig and the only boy worth dating in the whole school was of course, Draco). 

Mandy was staring forlornly in front of her and Draco smirked. Always ask when the girl is feeling lonely and unhappy and desperate. Perfect. "Hello," he said amiably, falling into step next to her. 

Mandy turned around and fixed sad looking brown eyes on Draco. "Oh. Hello. Do I know you?"

Draco was a bit put out by this sudden statement. Of course she knew him. Hell, everyone knew him! "Of course you do," he purred. "I'm Draco…Draco Malfoy." He wiggled his head around so the shaggy hair moved in what he hoped was a very seductive fashion.

It worked, at least a little bit. She perked up a tad and smiled a watery smile. "Oh, yes, of course I know you. Sorry I'm just feeling a bit upset right now."

"Oh, that's terrible," he said, trying not to sound condescending. He was not into this feelings crap. He was crude, rude, and male. It wasn't going to happen, he thought angrily, so she better shut her load if she planned on shagging him tonight. "How about I help you out?"

She looked up, expecting a miracle and instead seeing his beautiful silver eyes (and he knew they were gorgeous) staring directly into her brown ones. "Go to the dance with me," he commanded.

She nodded. Well, he thought happily, that had been rather simple after all. "Lovely. Meet me here at eight sharp. What are you going to wear?" he asked sharply, all traces of sympathy gone now that he had his date secured.

"Er, a pair of cream colored robes."

He nodded, reminding himself to conjure up a daisy corset. His own dark forest green robes would contrast slightly but it would still look nice enough. Smirking, he did not even bid Mandy goodbye as he walked up ahead to his Transfiguration class.

Now all he needed to do was form a fucking plan. Five and a half more hours…

*************

Classes were over and all the girls were practically racing back to their dorms in order to get ready for the upcoming dance. Hermione had actually zoned off during Professor Binns' lovely lecture on the goblin revolts of 1243 and thought about (gasp!) what to wear. She had finally decided on a pair of beautiful burgundy dress robes. As she came to her dorm she pulled them on and stared dolefully at her face in the mirror. She wasn't really keen on using the same stuff she'd used for the Yule Ball back in 4th year but it had worked, even though it was time-consuming. And every once in a while, turning heads was fun.

She finished up with about twenty minutes left before she had to go down and meet Dean. Somewhere along the evening she'd have to stage a run-in with Malfoy so she could get plan updates. It was going to be a very busy night and she was feeling a bit nervous as the clock kept on ticking.

"You look marvelous, Hermione," reassured Parvati, mistaking her uneasiness for appearance-jitters. Lavender chimed in. 

"Seriously, you do look very nice. Why don't you do your hair like that all the time? It looks very pretty pulled back," Lavender chattered away as she applied her fifth coat of mascara. Hermione fingered her eyelashes tentatively. She hated mascara. It was goopy and disgusting and it made her lids feel like glue.

"Well, it's a bit time-consuming," she said, answering Lavender's question.

Finally all the girls traipsed down the stairs to meet their "Prince Idiots" as Lavender had playfully dubbed it. Hermione scanned the room for Dean and spotted him holding a fairly nice corset (violets, perhaps?). He looked pretty good in a pair of handsome black dress robes, although they were a bit short, but Hermione didn't really care about looks that much. He looked good enough. "Hey," she called out, as she approached him.

He fastened the corset and gave her a quick smile. "You look great," he said and led her into the Great Hall, which had been magically altered to make room for a dance. Hermione sighed. Torture was about to begin.

************

Draco sauntered through the Great Hall, Mandy hanging onto his arm. She seemed a lot happier now that she was actually in a throng of people being seen on Draco Malfoy's arm. Good, Draco thought viciously, good. He kept a lookout for Granger--and there she was, looking…ugh, he hated to admit it, quite sexy in burgundy dress robes--talking to what he presumed was her date, a certain Dean Thomas. Draco felt a sudden impetuosity looking at Dean. Stupid Gryffindor, he cursed. Dean bothered him. 

While he was zoning out, Mandy Brocklehurst had already abandoned his arm. Draco looked around, and finally spotted her zooming through the crowds. He hurried to catch up to her and asked her, almost breathlessly, where they were going.

"Oh, um, I just wanted to say hi to someone," she said, sounding happier by the minute. It turned out that they were heading right to where Hermione and that stupid Dean Thomas were standing.

"Dean!" Mandy gushed. Dean spun around faster than you could say "idiot" and gasped when he saw Mandy.

"Mandy!" he replied with just as much fervor.

Draco exchanged a look with Granger. Did this mean…?

It meant exactly what they thought it meant. Dean and Mandy disappeared shortly after, without even bothering to say goodbye to their poor, stranded dates. Hermione recalled that Dean had been looking at the Ravenclaw table earlier and Draco remembered unhappily that Mandy had been quite downcast for the day…and it was all because of stupid Thomas. Although somehow Thomas didn't seem as horrible now as he had before. 

Gods. How awful. This was a first for Draco…being _forgotten about._ Apparently Hermione knew that, too.

"So, Malfoy, how does it feel to be rejected?" she asked conversationally.

He growled. "I was not rejected. I'll have you know that I was simply doing Mandy a favor by letting her come to the dance on my muscled arm. Plenty of girls would kill to come to the dance with me, but I am a humanely marvelous and sexy person, and I knew that I had to help a fellow classmate--Mandy--look utterly sophisticated and sexy as she walked into the room."

Hermione stared at Draco for a minute and he smirked, thinking he'd convinced her quite perfectly. "You're a pretty good bullshitter," Hermione finally said. 

Draco scowled. Obviously, she was a few notches above the average.

"All right then," he finally said, feeling the awkwardness of the situation, "we obviously don't need to worry about dates--"

"Because they won't be coming back any time soon," Hermione added mournfully.

"So we better concentrate on our task at hand," he finished up. 

"What's your plan?" she asked, nearly shouting because of the noise level around them. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco noticed Potter dancing with Pansy.

"Don't look now, but we've got trouble to the right," he said, sighing.

Of course she looked. "Shit. What are we going to do?"

Draco smirked. Every time Hermione Granger cursed or decided to do something unmistakably evil, it gave him the immense satisfaction of corrupting another soul. Ah, bliss. "We are going to take photographs."

"Photographs?"

"Yes, _Hermione_, photographs. We are going to terrorize that silly Creevey kid and take his camera. Then we are going to snap a picture of Potter, alone, and snap a picture of Pansy, alone. We are going to conjure up an image of you girl next to Potter and conjure a picture, a sexy one, of myself next to Pansy. We are going to conveniently leave pictures next to Potter and Pansy."

Hermione breathed audibly. "Interesting."

**************

Nervously Hermione followed Draco in search of Colin Creevey. They found him snapping pictures of Neville, which was a bit disturbing, but they didn't question why. Colin was very erratic and to truly bother him was about the same as going deaf--his high-pitched yelling could do that to anyone. Harry had suffered it first hand. 

Hermione nearly trembled as she walked up to the poor kid, reminding herself that this was for Harry's benefit only. And Colin supported Harry one hundred and thirty three percent, after all. "Colin," she said, barking meanly as Draco had told her to do. "Give me your camera."

"Hermione?" he asked neurotically, and Hermione summoned up some strength to resist those pleas.

"Give me the camera, Colin, or I'm going to hex your clothes off."

Colin gripped the camera tighter. "But I can't! I was getting pictures!"

"Well I need the camera more than you, Colin. I'm serious. I will really hex your clothes off."

Colin whimpered. "But Hermione…"

Draco stepped into the picture. "Give her the camera, Creevey, or I will tell Longbottom that you fancy him."

Colin paled. "I do not!" he gasped. "It's Harry I fancy! It's Harry!"

The world seemed to dim, because everyone had heard poor Colin's statement. Hermione nearly felt bad for him but she felt a whole lot worse for poor Harry. "Give us the camera," she said in a low voice. "And we'll pretend we never heard that."

Colin handed it over, trembling like a baby. "P-p-p-lease don't tell him, I've been trying to get over it," he said unhappily.

Malfoy sniggered but Hermione stopped him. "No, seriously, the poor bloke's ready to commit himself to St. Mungo's. Just drop it, Draco, pretend you never heard it."

Draco groaned but did as Hermione asked. Now was not the time. They were on a mission.

After they had gotten the camera, Hermione sneaked up to Harry, who was leaning comfortably at the punch table, although disturbingly staring off into space like only a man in lust can do. Turning off the flash, Hermione snapped the picture and tiptoed back to Draco, passing him the camera. He took it stealthily and moved up to Pansy, who was also smiling off into space, as only a conniving little bitch can do. He took the picture and hurried back to Hermione, who had luckily read about photograph-altering spells and was completely prepared.

She took the first photograph and, concentrating on an image of herself, muttered an incantation. "_Transformus_," she said softly, prodding her wand at the photo. A smiling, bubbly Hermione took her place next to Harry. "Put your arm around him," Draco whispered. Hermione sighed and prodded the photo once more so that picture Hermione was giggling and kissing Harry's cheek. 

"Happy?" she asked irritably.

"Yes. Now do the other one."

Hermione pulled out the other photograph and concentrated on an image of Draco. Unfortunately, concentrating required scanning all of Draco and Hermione couldn't help but notice how good-looking he'd gotten. Damn. Too bad it was sadistic and evil Malfoy. Finally she said the incantation and a picture of Draco, which did not need to be prodded, slung his arm around Pansy and Pansy was the one who giggled and began kissing Draco on his cheek.

"Perfect," they breathed as they smiled at the two very busy photographs.

Now the only thing left was to distribute the pictures.

A/N #2: Well, I made the chapter very long so I could make up for the long wait. LMTran-I don't know if you're still reading the story, but I love you! Yes, at first when I started the story, I did want to make fun of the fics where everyone is ridiculously good-looking, but nobody got it, so I sort of dropped the focus on ridiculously good looks! But you noticed! Wow, thanks! I didn't think anyone would get the fact that I was making fun of it. 

Please review! Thanks!


	10. Chap 10: Misinterpretations

Delusion Chapter 10

A/N #1: I'm so sorry! I have the worst writer's block ever for this story. I was almost going to put this on hiatus for another month but I just had to try to write. So here's the end result… without further ado, the next chapter. 

The atmosphere was thick and sweaty as Draco and Hermione debated just how to get these photographs noticed. One couldn't just enlarge them and stick them up in the air for everyone to see. One had to be discreet, and then stick them up in the air for everyone to see. One had to be… subtle.

Now, subtlety was one of Draco's greatest accomplishments. Boy was he subtle. He subtly didn't pay attention in class. He subtly slipped out of Evil Duties, and he subtly slept with seventy five percent of the female population at Hogwarts. Yet he still didn't have a bad reputation… i.e. manwhore or slutboy or put outer. He was clean. Now if that wasn't subtlety he didn't know what was. 

Now how to subtly distribute pictures should be easy enough. Unfortunately, it seemed apparent that Hermione did not feel the same way. She didn't seem… comfortable with the situation. Actually that was putting it rather lightly. She was bordering on hysterical.

"I can't do this," she whispered frantically. "It was bad enough telling Colin to give me his camera, but potentially ruining Harry and Pansy's lives? I can't! I can't!"

Draco hadn't considered this 'potentially ruining Harry and Pansy's lives' aspect. Hmm, an extra perk.

"Yes, you can," he said firmly, gripping her shoulder and steering her away into a corner. "You can do it! Would you rather Potter screw Pansy and then get screwed himself, or that Potter burst out crying in front of everyone and publicly humiliate himself and be teased for, oh, the rest of the year? Which of these is the greater evil?"

Hermione began to panic.

Maybe his pep talk wasn't as convincing as he'd thought. He'd have to work on that.

"Draco, I can't do this," she said, turning away from him. "I'm out."

Damn it! What was it with women, anyway? All his beautiful plans slowly dying in front of him because of two very inconsistent women! First Pansy had to go and say "Well, look at me, I love Potter, happy, non-evil, Potter! Yay!" and now Hermione was saying, "Hmm I'd like to ruin your plans further by not participating even though I've come this bloody far and done some bad things anyway."

Wait. That seemed like a good strategy.

"Hermione," he coaxed slowly, "now, say Potter found out about all of this."

"Who cares?" she said. "I'm backing out!"

"Ah-ah-ah," he corrected happily (how he loved when he was right!). "You've already done so much awful stuff that Potter would never forgive you anyway. Might as well complete the deed and save him from the evil grip of Pansy Parkinson."

Hermione considered.

Draco continued. "And anyway, if you back out, I just might tell the entire school of your involvement in this and your beautiful reputation would be torn to shreds and set on fire."

Apparently "reputation" seemed to be the right word. He should've mentioned "studies" and "Dumbledore" earlier and she'd have agreed no matter what he said. 

"Okay," she finally said. "I can't have my reputation being ruined. You paint such a horrid picture."

"It's a talent," he replied snarkily. "Now let's get to work." 

**************

Hermione wasn't exactly pleased when she heard Draco's plan, but after all, she did want to bravely save Harry from the evil clutches of Pansy Parkinson. She fingered the picture of Draco and Pansy before sighing in resolution and moving stealthily among the crowd.

Ignoring her conscience she let the picture flutter to the ground, making sure that the person that needed to see the picture was around. All right, there it went…aha!

Subject had seen picture. Plan was in action and had been executed rather well, if she did say so herself.

Lavender Brown was grinning at the photograph like it was a dream come true. Everyone knew that Harry and Pansy had come to the dance together, and that right there was an interesting piece of gossip. Lavender Brown was so skilled at gossip you'd think every word out of her mouth had come straight from a tabloid. She was good.

But the best thing about Lavvy Brown? It wasn't the fact that she could gossip better than Rita Skeeter herself. Oh, no. Lavender was discreet. Lavender was brilliantly discreet.

Hermione wondered how exactly Draco knew that Lavender Brown was discreet about gossiping. She also wondered how Draco knew that it was better to _not_ say very much. That boy truly had his ways. He was God of the Prankster indeed.

Two minutes later, Hermione saw her plan work absolutely marvelously. Lavender Brown had taken the photograph straight to Harry Potter.

Harry Potter was bright red and he exited the Great Hall faster than his Firebolt, even, it seemed. It was definitely a noticeable exit. Definitely.

Except it was rubbing Hermione the wrong way.

A sensation she had tried to avoid had made its way back to her…

That horrid feeling known as guilt had spread to her. Oh, dear.

******************

Draco strolled most imperceptibly past Parvati Patil, who was currently chatting up Weasel, and dropped the photograph by her so inconspicuously he was almost afraid she wouldn't notice.

He needn't have worried. Parvati reached down and immediately saw a very happy picture of Harry and Hermione. Parvati, student of The Great Lavender Brown, Gossiper Extraordinaire herself, knew exactly what to do. Draco could only sit back and enjoy the show as Parvati abandoned Ron and made her way over to Pansy, thrusting the picture right into her face.

Pansy was mad, no doubt. Pansy grabbed the picture and ripped it in half, ha, ha… oh and were those tears? Running out of the room, yeah…attracting everyone's attention…it was perfect, absolutely perfectly executed…they were _so_ over…

This was not good.

He was not supposed to be half-enjoying and half-worrying. He was supposed to completely and blissfully enjoy every moment of their agony. He was evil, bad, terrible, and…unfortunately, feeling rather guilty at the moment.

_Damn it! _ He was not supposed to have a conscience! When had that thing popped up? 

And to make matters worse, a very doleful and sheepish looking Hermione Granger was making her way over to him.

"Draco!" she whined. "We should _not_ have done that. We…might have killed true love!"

Draco's mouth dropped open. _Women_! They could make up any excuse to be good. "True love?" he sputtered. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Hermione waved him off. "Just…you shut up. It's your entire bloody fault! You…tricked me! I shouldn't have listened, damn it, now I'm the one responsible for Harry's distress!"

"If it makes you feel any better I rather enjoyed it," he said honestly. It had been fun seeing Granger go to extreme lengths such as working with him. 

"Shut up!" she screeched, and whacked him on the side of the head. Well, old Hermione was back. 

"What was that for?" he roared, deciding that it was time to show his power too.

"You manipulated me, and now you're _laughing_ at me! The nerve! I _loathe_ you Draco Malfoy!"

Perhaps it was the fact that she'd screamed the last bit, or perhaps it was because of the sheer intensity of the statement, that everyone turned their attentions from the doorway and looked at her with mild curiosity.

Draco could almost hear them questioning, "But hasn't she always hated them? Why is she telling him that?" Come to think of it, why was she telling him that? He knew she hated him!

"Keep your voice down," he bit out as softly as possible, "and follow me. We have a lot of talking to do. Especially since you've just totally sent the wrong image to every fucking person in this school."

Hermione looked around with a bewildered expression on her face. "What?" she asked, suddenly mellow after her bout of excessive rage. 

Draco beckoned behind him and swam through the hordes of people who had resumed muttering among themselves ("did you see Parkinson leave? What the fuck was up with her and Potter? And, oh…were Malfoy and Hermione Granger doing something together! She totally just broke up with him!" "I know, I would never have thought they'd get together… "Yeah! Talk about surprise of the year!"). It was truly disastrous what Hermione had done and Draco knew it, with his observation skills and somehow disturbing excessive knowledge on nearly every student at Hogwarts.

After they'd left the Great Hall, they looked around for an empty corridor, finally noticing one near the Slytherin dormitories. Hermione was sniffling now; obviously her conscience was a lot more active than Draco's was. 

Maybe he could corrupt that, too. Seventh year really was something special.

**************

Hermione was distressed with the way that the night had turned out. It had really been a bummer. She knew Lavender and Parvati shouldn't have requested extra dances…how stupid was that? Who danced anyway! It had all been one big catastrophe and she was right at the center of the torture.

As soon as they were alone Draco turned to her with an angry expression on his face. "Why in bloody Merlin did you have to say you "loathed me" in front of everyone?" he exclaimed desperately.

Hermione still didn't understand the magnitude of the situation. "Why not?" she growled back. "It's not like I don't. What, you think I _fancied_ you or something? Why would I do a stupid thing like that?"

He rolled his eyes. "You idiot," he snarled. "It looked exactly like you'd fancied me at some point or the other. Honestly! I swear if I were a spectator I'd have thought the two of us were, Merlin forbid, doing something other than constantly loathing each other."

"I don't get it," she said slowly. Was he crazy, or was he correct? She seriously hoped he was crazy; not only was that more believable it was also more relieving.

"Hermione," he pleaded, "you're worse than Longbottom! Obviously it looked to the whole school like you'd just broken up with me!"

Her jaw dropped open as she finally understood the effect such words and the way they'd been acting all evening would have on fellow students with young impressionable minds. Shit. Double, triple, quadruple shit! This was truly awful!

"I can't believe this," she said desperately. "When did it go wrong?"

He considered. "I don't know. When we put our hearts into this stupid thing, I guess." She knew he was right. Why she'd invoked he conscience was a mystery; why couldn't it just lay dormant throughout the whole fiasco?

"I should never have gotten involved," she sighed. 

He shrugged. "What's done is done. What's the next step going to be?" he asked forlornly.

"What can we do? It's done, isn't it? It's over, I'm sure, judging by their expressions."

He agreed. "You're right. There's nothing left."

"Well, then," she said, and somehow she was almost sorry to say the words, "It was…not that bad with you… not as bad as I'd expected, of course. Almost kind of fun," she finished up honestly. No point in lying now.

He laughed devilishly. "Explore it more often," he advised. "You'll like living on the wilder side of the books, Granger."

"See you later, Mr. Malfoy," she replied half-heartedly. "But do remember, I still don't like you."

"Ditto."

*****************

Pansy Parkinson was walking wearily and dejectedly back to her dormitories, when she caught wisps of conversation just near the Slytherin Tower entrance. Even though she was not in the mood and very downcast herself, her Slytherin nature took over and she stood where she was, controlling her breaths and making sure she made naught a sound. Now, to listen…

"…you've just broken up with me!" someone was saying. That sounded like Draco! Draco had a girlfriend? Pansy nearly wet her pants with excitement and anticipation for the next voice.

"I can't believe this…where did it go wrong?" That was…oh, no, it couldn't be…but it was…Hermione Granger, that smart and stuck-up Gryffindor? Granger? But, how? Pansy nearly sputtered but she had to keep listening. Every word they said confirmed her suspicions.

"I don't know, when we put our hearts into this stupid thing, I guess…" What? Did he love her? Draco didn't even know how to love! What? What stupid thing?

"I should never have gotten involved..." all the way to "it was kind of fun…"

They were sleeping together and eventually put their hearts into it. Pansy knew it. Oh, that was absolutely a riot. When had this awful thing happened? What had they been doing? Did this have anything to do with the odd way Draco had been acting lately? It must. It must.

Wait till Harry heard about this.

A/N: It was short, but please tell me it wasn't as miserable as I think it was. It took me a while to write, and now I kind of know what direction I'm going in, but I'd really appreciate some feedback. Oh, and thank you so much for the fantastic reviews! One short of two hundred's amazing! You guys are the best, and please keep it up. 


	11. Chap 11: Chop It Off!

Delusion Chapter 11

Harry Potter was more than upset. Pansy…that… stupid wench! How dare she cheat on him… especially with his archenemy that awful inbreeded little… ooh, Harry was beyond mad. Stupid Draco Malfoy. Why hadn't he drowned himself in a well already? If he'd been named Draco he would've shot himself before he could count to five. Damn Draco… he was always taking whatever Harry remotely wanted. 

The morning outside was bright and sunny but Harry felt dark and unhappy. And he was madder because the situation was so cliché.

Burn in hell, Malfoy, he thought angrily. Just burn! And Pansy could go fuck one of Hell's minions for all he cared.

To make matters worse, he wanted to confide in Hermione, and that girl was absolutely nowhere to be found. It almost seemed like she was avoiding him. Why on earth… he didn't even want to take the time and effort to contemplate it right now. His Sunday morning shouldn't be spent this gloomy, should it? 

At that instant, Ron ambled up to him, looking mournful. "I'm awfully sorry about last night, Harry," he began gently. Oh, great. Typical best-friends-comfort-session. 

"Just shut it, Ron," Harry growled, the moody characteristics from fifth year taking over again.

Ron looked indignant. "Harry, if you're going to go all moody over Pansy Pug Faced Parkinson then you're crazy! You know she's no good; I told you something like this would happen. It was probably a bloody bet anyway!"

Harry looked down at the floor determinedly. "Go away, Ron. Or, better yet, I'm going."

"Where are you going?" Ron asked, eyes narrowed.

"To the library," Harry replied, and darted out of the Gryffindor common room.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Why did I have to get stuck with two best friends who keep dashing off to the library?" he moaned to himself and sank down on the couch.

***************** 

Pansy was pissed off, but that was nothing new among the Slytherin crowd. All of them had their own personalities and Pansy was resident bitch/resident slut/ resident better/ resident… ah, screw it, she thought to herself—she was resident everything except manipulator (title went to Draco). Speaking of that sodding bastard, he was more than definitely in trouble with her.

How _dare_ he scream at her for liking a Gryffindor when he was fucking one behind her back!

And if he was fucking Granger… then that picture of Harry and Granger could not be true, unless Granger was a whore. Hah, Pansy thought happily, revenge would come… wait till Harry found out. Pansy reasoned that if she told Harry about this—damn, she wished she could have recorded the conversation!—then he would talk to her again. Pansy didn't care very much if Harry was emotionally attached to Granger; all she wanted from him was a little bit of physical lovin'. 

He was sexy, and he was nice.

But he'd stormed off last night and she couldn't even confront him about his relationship with Granger. 

Moodily, Pansy kicked her way through some first years and went to the library, hoping to see Harry there. She knew it wasn't one of his favorite haunts but maybe he was with Muddy Granger.

Creeping through the… oh, what were they?... oh yeah, books… a certain kind… textbooks, was it?...Pansy scanned every table. She beat up two second years that had refused to tell her where Harry was; because apparently he had threatened to beat them up if they told anyone his whereabouts. Two black eyes and three bruises later, the two of them pointed in a small corner of the library that Pansy didn't even know existed.

She found him sitting at a table and looking ready to tackle old Voldemort (poor chap was misunderstood!). "Harry," she said quietly and he spun around, the dislike evident in his face.

"Fuck. Those second years are in for a beating," he muttered.

She smiled. Maybe her Slytherin-ness was rubbing off on him. Conveniently neglecting to tell him that she'd already beat them up in order to find him, she sighed. "Look…what are you so pissed about? If anyone should be upset, it's me, and I'm not."

He gaped. "_You_?" he said incredulously. "You? You're the one who's taking Malfoy as a side order here!"

She scowled. "I am not," she said. "Haven't fucked him once this year! What are you on about?!"

Harry made a disbelieving noise half-way between a snort and a snicker. "Then take a look at this," he said, a thrust something into her face. She took it, bewildered, and saw that it was a picture. Hmm, nice… oh, look there she was, and she looked fantastic! You could really see those blonde highlights after all (damn Blaise was lying!)… and there was Draco, oh… she was kissing Draco. So that's what had stoned Harry over.

"Um, unless I was really, really drunk, I don't think this happened," she said simply, waving the photograph in Harry's face.

Harry snorted. "Your sense of humor always gets me," he said with a small lopsided grin.

"I wasn't kidding," she protested. "That picture's not true… here, look at this." With that she pulled out the photo she'd found last night as well—the one with Harry and Hermione. 

"I'm willing to forgive you," she said and handed him the photograph. He took it and stared at it for a very long time.

"Now..." he began softly. "Where did you say you got this photograph?"

"I didn't," she reminded him. "But I found it last night in the Great Hall, and I wanted to talk to you about it but you'd stormed off. You've an awful temper, you know that?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah. But the point is… I found the pic of you and Draco in the Great Hall as well."

Pansy's mind clouded over in contemplation. "Yeah?" she asked finally, not exactly wanting to believe the truth. Let him say it.

"It means that someone set us up."

Her eyes went wide, even though she knew this was the answer. Suddenly she remembered what she'd originally wanted to tell him. "Oh, I had to tell you something!"

His left eyebrow shot up. "Oh yeah? Something to do with this?"

She shrugged. "I dunno, you can tell me if it is. So last night I was on my way to the Slytherin dorms and guess who I heard talking."

He groaned. "I don't know… Millicent and her kitty?"

"No, you dope," she said playfully. "Draco and Hermione Granger."

He stopped mid-yawn. "You're kidding," he finally said. "You must be joking. They _abhor_ each other."

"No, they don't," she argued. "At least according to their conversation they don't."

"What did they say?" he asked, his interest completely piqued.

"Well, I gather they'd been sleeping together until one of them fell in love! And they'd just broken up, I think, but neither of them wanted it to happen! And Draco was all like, "where did it go wrong?" and Gran—Hermione was all like, "when we put our hearts into it!" and Draco was all like, "it was really fun!" and Hermione was all like, "remember, I still hate you!" but it was so playful that you could tell she totally did not hate him!" Pansy's voice was breathless as her gossiping side took over.

Harry's eyes were wider than saucers. "I cannot believe this," he moaned. "This is not true."

"It is," she insisted, "I swear."

He shook his head. "I believe you, but… it makes me so mad! How _dare_ Hermione warn me about you being in Slytherin, cold-hearted, and all of that crap, while she was fucking one of you behind my back!"

Pansy nodded sympathetically. "I feel the exact same way," she said vehemently. "That's exactly the same with Draco!"

Harry's eyes were glittering with a cold malice that Pansy hadn't seen before. She rather liked it. "You do not understand how vengeful this makes me," he said bitterly to Pansy.

"Vengeful enough for payback?" she suggested, thinking in her head of all the things she could do to Draco and Granger.

He nodded, almost imperceptibly. "Big time," he muttered. "Big time."

*******************

Hermione sat in a busy section of the library, fairly content because of all the studying sorts of people around her. This was who she was, she told herself firmly. A nice, studious girl with an aptitude for studies that belonged with other students that studied. Damn. In other words, she was beyond boring. She was hopeless.

She hated herself for it, but she really missed having that teensy little 'bad' side to her. It had been kind of… mind you, kind of… fun, in a way. 

Damn it! Was she really having withdrawal symptoms from teaming up with Draco?

Apparently she was. Oh bugger. Mumbling to herself she concentrated on her Charms homework and tried to think of the lecture Professor Flitwick had given on Friday, but oddly, it was not possible. Her mind was too cluttered with the events of Saturday night. They'd succeeded in breaking up Pansy and Harry. That was a big accomplishment, although Hermione certainly did not want to see Harry's face after that one (she felt absolutely miserable about it!). She'd been stood up at the dance and had unfortunately been stuck with Malfoy for the night.

But that wasn't the problem.

The problem was that she hadn't felt like cutting off every one of her toes with a dull knife by the end of the evening. She'd felt elated that they'd succeeded, and then of course, immeasurably guilty.

Shutting her books firmly, she resolved there was no way she was going to get any extra studying done today. She decided to take a walk in the nice, cool air. She left her book bag in the library and stepped out, enjoying the nice breeze on the Hogwarts grounds. At first it seemed the grounds were empty, but as Hermione proceeded, she noticed with disdain that apparently Hogwarts' grounds were also termed wild-mating-session-for-horny-Hogwarts-students.

She had not come out here to see Terry Boot stick his tongue down Ginny Weasley's throat. On the other hand, this would make for interesting conversation with Ron.

She continued on, and soon spotted the boy her subconscious had been aching to see. Yes, it was definitely Draco Malfoy… and he wasn't alone either. Gods, that boy got around fast! Currently he was speaking to (Hermione craned her neck to see) Crabbe. Hermione giggled in spite of herself—the conversation, based on hand gestures, just looked hilarious. Draco was gesturing wildly with his hands and Crabbe's expression was a mixture of confusion, fear, and unhappiness. Poor kid.

As she walked by Draco noticed her and waved her down. "Oy, you!"

She turned, feigning a look of exasperation. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy? How can I be of service? Note the sarcasm, please."

"Will do. Need help—must explain to Crabbe that he can't go home for Christmas holidays and will be staying here because his mum and dad are going to Bora Bora!"

"Well why didn't they owl him?" she asked.

"They _did_! Do you think he can read?" Draco asked, breathing heavily. Hermione could tell he was trying to be patient, but at that moment she snorted. "Do calm yourself," he snapped, "and help me."

Rolling her eyes Hermione began. "Crabbe," she said imploringly, "you're staying at Hogwarts for Christmas, where you can have all the cakes and cookies your mum would never let you eat when you were little."

Crabbe cocked his head. "Cookies?" he asked. "Goody! I get to stay at Hogwarts!" With that Crabbe moseyed off, mumbling something about cakes.

Draco glared at her. "How could you do it so fast?" he grumbled.

She scowled. "And how come you couldn't? I don't even know the bloke and I said something he understood!"

"Well you try explaining stuff to him!"

"I _just_ did!"

"Shut up, you stupid cow!"

Gathering her energy, Hermione glowered at him—she was in for a long fight.

********************

Harry followed Pansy dubiously, not sure whether to believe her or not. Well, he did believe her… but he didn't want to. He was furious—no, livid, at Hermione and Malfoy (but then, when was he not upset with the latter?). And if Pansy was telling the absolute truth, it was time for a little of their own medicine…

What were they going to do?

Suddenly Pansy stopped right in front of him. "What is it?" he snarled, somehow still a bit angry with her.

"Look," she whispered and pointed up ahead of her. They were on the Hogwarts grounds; there were a hundred places to look. Could she have been any vaguer?

"Where?" he asked, rolling his eyes.

"Up there, next to that clump of trees, Harry. Honestly, use your eyes. What are we talking about here? Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger… any of that ring a bell, dumbass?" Pansy ranted.

Well, then. That cleared up the question that she might be just a tad bit upset with him as well. _Dumbass_? Interesting. He hadn't been called one in a few years. He gave her a small smile and turned his attention to Malfoy and Hermione.

"Oh, screw off," Malfoy was telling Hermione. Harry felt his blood boil for a second but calmed down when he heard that the words between them were not sweet-nothings or any other thing that resembled romance in the slightest. Good. He breathed a sigh of relief and listened more closely.

"Why don't you screw off?" Hermione snapped back. "Oh, right, you can't, because you need me!"

 "I do not need you!" Malfoy roared. Harry chuckled. Already his day was getting better. Go, Hermione, he rooted silently. 

"Just let it go, Hermione! Damn it, it's over! What happened, happened and we can't go back just because you have a conscience! Kill it!" Harry's good mood evaporated as he heard Malfoy's words. _It's over? What happened, happened? Conscience?_ Those did not sound… maybe Pansy was… Hermione…having sex....Malf—no, Harry told himself. Mustn't go there. That direction led to bad, bad thoughts that Harry was much unprepared to have.

"You bastard," Hermione snarled. "How dare you talk like that! You were upset too and you know it! In fact I think it cut you rather deeply, didn't it!"

"It did not," Malfoy said, all anger replaced by a frosty ice. "I was happy."

Harry moaned but Pansy clamped a hand over his mouth. "Shut up, Harry," she chided. "Cor, I need to know what happens. And you do too."

Harry nodded miserably and tried to listen to the conversation without passing out. 

"You were not happy," Hermione was saying. "I think you were guilty! Hah! Guilty, guilty, guilty!"

"SHUT UP, GRANGER! DON'T YOU DARE SUGGEST THAT I WOULD BE GUILTY OVER SUCH A THING! I DO STUFF LIKE THIS ALL THE TIME!"

Both Harry and Pansy's eyes widened. Perhaps this went just a bit deeper than they had originally thought. 

"Fine then. Admit you didn't give a shit when the two of them looked so miserable you could knock them over with a sugar quill," Hermione said resolutely.

Two of them? Harry wondered. What was this?

"I… did not," he said, but he looked miserable. "Whatever, Potter and Parkinson are over now, okay? Can we just go back to our lives like the way they were before this whole mess? We finished up, and they're not together," Malfoy said haughtily.

Harry felt Pansy tense up next to him. He rather felt the same way himself. Were they saying what he thought they were saying? They were the ones behind the pictures? They had been trying to break them up, and had sex in the process? Fuck! Hermione was in so much trouble… and Malfoy, oh, Malfoy was going to wish he never existed when Harry was through with him… 

"Potter," Pansy said, the disbelief making her voice sound very hollow. "I cannot believe this. Draco cheated… quite blatantly!"

Harry looked at her with resignation. "Don't tell me… there's more to this story."

Pansy sighed. "I'll tell you in a bit, alright? Let's just listen to what they're saying right now, and then we'll figure out where to go from here."

"Draco," Hermione said slowly, "this is like the fiftieth time you said that. Are you regretting something? Wanting to say something else? It's okay if you fancy Harry—it's okay to be gay, you know."

Harry wanted to retch, but unfortunately, in his current situation, really could not. 

"Very funny," Malfoy responded dryly. "If I were gay, I wouldn't like _women_, Hermione."

Harry wanted to punch him, but unfortunately, in his current situation, really could not. Ah, damn Malfoy, implying he was feminine!

Hermione giggled. "That was actually a good one," she said approvingly. "Get it from Crabbe?"

And so the banter continued. Okay, Harry thought furiously. They were obviously not enemies anymore. They fucking slept together, didn't they! Maybe they fancied each other. Disgusting. And what was this about Pansy? He turned to her, looking savage.

"Tell me what you meant earlier," he said coldly.

Pansy looked unhappy but launched into what turned out to be a long tale. When she finished, Harry looked cynical. "Nothing ever works out for me," he said sullenly. "I can't believe I was a bet with Malfoy."

Pansy shook her head. "Don't you get it? I called the bet off! Because I really liked you!"

"Whatever, Pansy," Harry stated dolefully. "I don't think it will ever work out between us… but you know what?"

Pansy looked downcast. "What?"

"We can definitely pay Malfoy and Hermione back. The two conspiring little… aw, bugger, I can't curse at Hermione! But Malfoy's… I don't even have the words to explain it! I just want to cut his balls off, damn it!"

"Hold on there," Pansy said calmly, "you're not thinking straight. Plus, I have a very good way to pay them back."

"What?" Harry asked doubtfully.

Pansy grinned. "They obviously want to get over each other. They obviously are mad at each other? What do you propose we do?"

Harry grinned, and then finished Pansy's sentence. "We set them up," he breathed. "We set them up."

A/N: The twist! Anyhow, I try and try to get over insane writer's block, but the creative juices in me have been drained, it seems. Tell me how you thought the chapter was, and please review, I love feedback and it really helps with writer's block, especially!


	12. Chap 12: Notes and Notoriety

Delusion 12

A/N: I apologize for the crazy long wait, ok, it wasn't that long right? Just a month and a week, approximately! Anyway, here is the next chapter without further ado.

Ron was mulling around in the common room, feeling mulish and very blah. He had played maybe ten games of Exploding Snap with his sister as Hermione and Harry were nowhere to be found. Speaking of them… gosh, the two of them had been awfully odd towards one another. 

Suddenly Harry raced into the common room. Ron scrutinized him… was that an evil glint that he detected in Harry's green eyes? Well, fuck! How in sweet Merlin did Harry suddenly become revengeful? Interested, he called out to his buddy. "Hey, Harry," he began.

Harry whipped around and gave Ron a look. "What is it, Ron? I'm kind of busy right now."

"No shit. What are you up to? You look a bit… off," Ron pushed. Seriously, if Harry was doing what he thought he was doing…

"Oh, nothing, nothing, just some, uh, Quidditch practice. Yeah, that's it. Quidditch practice. Going to fly my lovely broomstick outside in the lovely weather."

"Harry, my man, it's pouring. I'd think of a better excuse if I were you," Ron answered lightly.

Harry's head swiveled to the window and he started to blubber like a fish. "How can it be raining? I was just outside and it was perfectly fine!"

"The weather is not always cooperative, my child," Ron said in perfect impersonation of Albus Dumbledore himself. "Sometimes it changes so that your excuse can be blown to smithereens."

"That was a violent description," Harry replied. "Hey, I like it."  
  


Ron put his hands up in exasperation. "That's what I mean! The normal Harry is a very placid, almost…oh, I don't know, un-confrontational kind of guy. You're over here saying, Rah, Rah, kill, kill!"

"I never said 'rah, rah, kill, kill,'" Harry remarked in confusion.

"For the love of sex, Harry, stop being so… stupid!" Ron yelled.

"For the love of sex? Are you not getting any? Is that why you're being bitchy?" Harry continued casually.

Ron clenched and unclenched his fists. One deep breath, two deep breaths, three deep breaths… "Look, Harry," he spoke calmly, keeping his emotions at bay. "You've been awfully different lately, and I'm just being a concerned friend."

"There's nothing to be concerned about," Harry said sharply. 

"But there is! You're acting all mad and… oh, oh my god, Harry! Are you on drugs?!"

"What?! No, of course not! Like I'd know where to get them!" Harry replied, flabbergasted.

But Ron was determined. He knew something had been up with Harry, damn it if XTC thought it could control Harry's mind. "You can't do drugs," he said firmly. "They're bad."

"I'm not on drugs!"

"You are on drugs!"

"I am NOT!"

Ron huffed. "Well fine then, be a pothead!"

Harry huffed back. "I think that you are looking for attention, Ron. What's the matter? Tired of lusting after Hermione! You are never going to get her!"

Ron was hurt by Harry's remark. "Oh, go do some pot," he snapped, and left a bewildered Harry staring after him.

Hmm, Harry thought…maybe Ron was on drugs…

****************

Pansy was ready to put her plans into action. She was feeling absolutely vengeful towards Draco right now; horrid little cheater. He was going to get it, big time. She stalked around her common room, glaring at the first years that dare get in her path of destruction. Behind her, she heard someone (presumably, a second or third year) mutter, "Bad case of PMS."

Pansy hexed a triple combination of Jelly Legs, Warty Face, and Tingling Body. Her parents would be proud.

In a bit of a pickle, she went up to her dorms and tried to come up with a decent way to set Draco and Hermione up. Perhaps she should enlist the help of a few close friends (and Harry could use his little Weasel friend, if he wanted to). 

"Millicent, Sally Anne," she barked, hoping her two friends would suddenly emerge from the walls or something.

Oddly, they did. Pansy cast them a curious/inquisitive/what-the-hell-were-you-doing look, but didn't say anything. There were more important things on her mind than the activities of Millicent, Sally Anne, and the wall. Maybe they were painting it or something.

"Girls, we have a problem," she began.

Millicent rolled her eyes. "Oh, gosh, Pansy, every fucking day's a problem for you. Oh, Millie, my hair isn't curling right today, oh Millie, I just gained .238 pounds! Oh, Millie, my boyfri—"

"Shut up," Pansy said icily. Millicent got the point.

"So what's up?" Sally Anne asked. Sally Anne was the kind of girl Pansy secretly envied, a lot. This would also be a fantastic opportunity to get rid of that girl's stupid (gorgeous) burgundy (totally fake but natural looking, damn the girl) locks or her ugly (beautiful) dark eyes or her unflattering (close to perfect) figure or all of the negative (positive) attention she received from the boys.

"Hold on, Sally Anne. You're so impatient," Pansy glowered, and then turned her attention back to the situation. "Okay, so Draco…"

"Fuck, here we go again," Sally Anne said, rolling her eyes.

Pansy's temper escalated, and as usual, when she was very, very upset, she was calm and cool on the surface. "Draco," she said softly, but the trace of malice/murderous thoughts/painful torture was easily detectable in her voice, "has cheated miserably on a bet I had going with him."

Millicent and Sally Anne both widened their eyes. "He cheated?" Millicent asked. "Isn't this normal?"

"NO! What's normal is that I CHEAT! Not HIM!" Pansy screamed, all pretense of coolness gone.

"All right, all right! Are you gonna pay him back?" Sally Anne snapped.

"Not just me. We're gonna pay him back," Pansy said dangerously.

"What's it to Millie and me?" Sally Anne scowled.

"It's everything to you and Millie if you intend to stay popular," Pansy bitched.

Millicent, who had evened out somewhat over the years, immediately agreed. Sally Anne was skeptical but Pansy knew the girl would do it. 

Quickly she explained her plans to them. When she was done both of them shook their heads in disbelief. "Well, Pansy, that's awfully heavy," Millicent finally began. "I mean, setting Draco up with his ex-whore?"

"So? You turning nice or something?" Pansy challenged. "If you are, get the hell out of my group."

Millicent turned white. "Just kidding," she mumbled. "Anyway, what're we gonna do?"

Sally Anne had gotten a malicious glint in her eye. "Oh, I know just the thing. First we got to get Granger to like him. Have her stalk him. He's gonna get so pissed off, right? Then we tell her that he's fucking Pansy. She's gonna go cry her eyes out. Then we tell Draco that she's pregnant with his child and that's why she's crying, ok? And he's gonna say, fuck, I never slept with her, and then you'll remind him about the evening he got stone pissed, and say, how do you think you ended up on the Slytherin common room floor, your pants to your knees? She obviously had her way with you. Then he's gonna get so pissed off, he's gonna go and bitchslap her. Won't that be fun?"

Millicent and Pansy backed away from Sally Anne. Just a little bit. Hmm, Pansy thought frantically, maybe it wasn't a very good idea to mess with the overly zealous Sally Anne. "I think that's a bit overboard," Millicent said meekly. "We're trying to set them up, not create a soap opera."

"Soap operas!" Pansy snapped her fingers together. "That's it! They always have those crazy schemes to set people up! Where's my wizard wireless? The one with Scotty Toohott is coming on in like, five minutes!"

Evening saw three girls completely enraptured by the hard abs of Scotty Toohott as he wooed Melinda Idyut and slept with Whorisha Applebee and married Goodi TooShus.

**********

Hermione felt undeniably guilty, even though she'd already made peace with what she'd done. Perhaps she should get Harry a present or something like that. What would he like? There was that new Enlargement Gum that had been released last week, but Hermione wasn't quite sure "enlargement" referred to brain growth, so she decided that wasn't a good idea.

Well, what about a book? Books were good and very like her normal self. None of this vengeful business she'd been meddling with lately. Hmm, perhaps a book on friendship. No, too cheesy. Maybe a book about revenge. Well, that sounded nice enough. Of course she expected him to take it as a bit of light, pleasurable reading. He wouldn't act on it or anything.

That weekend Hermione decided to pay a little trip to Hogsmeade, and picked up a classic, _101 Ways to Extract Beautiful Revenge_. The next day she awkwardly started up some conversation with Harry. 

"So," she began, twirling a piece of frizz (hair, she supposed) around her finger (because she'd forgotten to apply serum that morning, in her nervousness and anxiety). "What's up, Harry?"

"What's up?" he repeated, looking awfully out of it. 

"Yeah, as in, how are you, I haven't spoken to you in a bit, how's life been treating you…" Hermione explained, looking over at him. Was there a possibility…?

"I'm okay I guess," Harry replied, throwing her a funny look. "And you… have you been…messing around lately?"

Uh-oh, he really knew! Well then, sweet Merlin, giving him _101 Ways to Extract Beautiful Revenge_ might not be the best of ideas. "HeyHarrywantthisbookIgotyou?" she found herself squeaking, even though she wasn't planning on giving it to him.

He took it anyway. "Hey cool!" he said, shooting her a half-smile, although he still looked really dazed and out of it. "This'll come in handy."

Gulping, Hermione looked over at him, and then found the courage to say it. "Hey Harry…" she began.

Harry turned and looked at her; a glint of some sort had appeared in his eyes.

She took a deep breath, and continued. "Are you on drugs?"

Imagine her surprise when she had to deftly sidestep that book flying through the air. That settled it! Harry Potter was definitely on some not so healthy substances! It was confirmed when he stomped off, muttering something like, "everyone thinks I'm crazy druggie no will kill them awful RonHermione hate!"

**************

Draco was going about, doing his usual business (nothing, really). He'd hung around with Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle, terrorized a couple of first years, hexed a Hufflepuff or two, raided the kitchens, and cursed at a house-elf. The work for today seemed pretty much done. 

Suddenly an unfamiliar owl, probably one of the school ones, swooped down and dropped an informal looking note on his lap.

He began to read, simply because he was so bored.

_My dear draggon Draco (I hope you don't mind if I call you that! Tee hee!),_

_I have been yerning to see you since we parted this afternoone. I find that I am miserubl without your company. I think I mite be in love with you, akchually. Isn't that sooper! Please meet me at the Astronumy Towur at eleven tonight! _

_Lots and lots and lots of love_

_Mu__ Hermyowni Grangier_

The note nearly made him giggle. It was beyond doubt that this was most certainly not from Granger; hell, she hadn't even spelt her own name right, let alone the rest of the blatant spelling errors. And he was pretty sure that even if Hermione did have a fancy on him (he wouldn't really mind; he'd let her down really easy; after all it was hard to resist the temptation of having a fancy on Draco!) she wouldn't quite confess it in such a… well, she'd be much, much more subtle about it. Nevertheless, he wanted to see who would be waiting for him up in the Astronomy Tower at eleven. 

Unless Crabbe and/or Goyle had written the note. Only those two had such a shaky hand, such horrible spelling, and utter crass. 

But he'd see. Hmm, this had just made his day so much more interesting.

That night, he prowled around the common room for a bit before heading on upstairs. He'd taken extra care to make sure his hair had just the right amount of gel, and just the right amount of that "hanging loose" style he'd learned to like. He made sure his cloak smelled like the faintest of the most expensive cologne and headed up the stairs, ready to crush his poor admirer. What fun this would be!  
  


When he got up there, he saw the usual: Hufflepuffs holding hands and giggling, the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors quietly doing their business, and the Slytherins messing it up for everyone. He looked around for an empty room and found one, and then waited for someone to show up.

He nearly dropped down dead when Hermione Granger walked in.

She looked just as surprised to see him. Wait. Maybe there was more to it.

"So, Hermione Granger," he began, "tell me why you can't spell your own name right."

"Tell me why you wish to… uh, let me check…profess your love for me and drench me with roses and perfume and make sweet, sweet love to me until the wee hours of the morning?" 

Despite himself, he laughed. "Ridiculous. Let me see your note."

"If I can see yours," she countered, pleased that both of them had been smart enough to overcome the idiocy of whoever had sent the notes.

They exchanged notes and Draco read with earnest the note "he" had sent her.

_Dear Hermyowni of the hevens,_

_I find you to be the most exkwisite of the creetures in the school. I wish to profess my love for you and drenche you with roses and perfoome and make sweet, sweet love to you untill the wee hours of the morneng. Please meet me at the Astronumy Towur at eleven tonight!_

_I want you so bad,_

_Draco__ Hotness Malfoy_

"Oh, please," Draco sputtered. "Tell me that for one millisecond you didn't believe it was me."

"Of course not," she snapped. "Do you take me for an idiot? I figured you wouldn't call yourself "hotness" is all. Thought maybe you preferred something along the lines of "sexy" or "sex-god" or "boy in the buff."

He scowled. "Very funny, but in fact I was referring to the language and the spelling."

"Well, actually, I wasn't quite sure if your ability to spell was any higher than this," she teased, and he swallowed to keep himself from reacting too meanly.

"Why I ought to punch you for that," he drawled. "But I don't hit girls, even though it's a bit difficult to stick you in that category."

"Oh, seriously," she waved him off. "We've got to find out the idiot behind these silly notes. Who would be trying to set us up? Or is it just an asinine joke?"

He shrugged. "Well, I suppose I'll work with you one more time, to find out the bloke who jacks himself off to these ridiculous wastes of time."

Faces hardened, the two of them got to work, trying to figure out just who it might be. 

**************

Millicent cowered under Pansy's glare. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I forgot to have you proof-read! I was just so excited to get them out!"

"Millie," Pansy scowled, "I have a very bad feeling that you probably sent out two very easily detectable notes!"

"Pans, I'm really sorry, okay! I was in a hurry! And Sally Anne said to send them!"

"Oh did she?" Pansy shouted, her blood beginning to boil for the second time that day. "I'm gonna kill her. Socially, I mean. Can't really kill her until we're out of Hogwarts. Anyway, what did the notes say? How bad was the damage?"

"I can't really remember; Sally Anne will help me. Where's the little bitch anyway?" Millicent asked, stressing "bitch" just to get back in Pansy's good graces.

"Ugh, I'll call her," Pansy said, rolling her eyes as she performed a simple location spell with her wand. Within seconds Sally Anne appeared in the room, looking mighty upset.

"Excuse me? I was with Blaise!" she yowled. "You know we hardly get any time together."

"I hope you get pregnant," Pansy said sincerely and with much anger. "Anyway, can you recall what was in those notes that you helped Millicent send out? Obviously you knew that it was an absolutely ridiculous idea, not to mention thoroughly predictable."

Sally Anne gave a serene smile. "Indeed I can. To Hermione, something about Draco wanting to make sweet, sweet love until the wee hours of the morning, roses, perfume, the whole nine yards. To Draco, something about being head-over-heels in love, silly shit like that. Yeah?"

Pansy ground her teeth in frustration. "Millicent! Oh, there's no use yelling at you now," she sighed to herself. "What's done is done. Now how will we overcome this damage? And Sally Anne, you have to cooperate with me. If I see another dirty trick like this, done at poor Millie's expense… forget Blaise."

Sally Anne made a face but accepted defeat. 

"Okay, so we have to think… all right, we know they're both smart, so they're gonna try and figure out who did this shit to them," Pansy said matter-of-factly. "So all we gotta do is put clues in the wrong direction. Anything to keep ourselves clean."

Millicent and Sally Anne both smile. "How deliberately Slytherin-like of you," Sally Anne said happily. "I'll participate."

"As will I," Millicent said in a heartbeat. "So, who's our victim?"

"Some guy that likes sick shit like this… girls, throw me some names," Pansy said devilishly.

"House? I know we shan't do Gryffindor or Slytherin, how about Hufflepuff? Ravenclaws are too smart for this crap," Sally Anne explained.

"Yeah sounds good," Pansy agreed. "I'm thinking that Finch-Fletchley kid, is that his name?"

"Eh, something like that," Millicent shrugged. "So what's his motive?"

"Something tragic," Pansy laughed diabolically and Sally Anne joined her. "We've found our next victim… ooh, this'll be so much fun!"

Pansy, Millicent, and Sally Anne all got to work ruining Justin's life. What a productive day it had turned out to be.

A/N: Lol, hate to sound conceited but I love my Pansy. Anyway, just so you know, she isn't by any means really smart, but she's awfully cunning. Okay, just so you know, Harry never did drugs ;). Anyway, let's see… other points of address… all right, I've gotten the question "Will Harry and Pansy end up together?" a lot. A lot of you don't want that to happen, some people do want it to happen. I'm not quite sure myself if it will, but we'll see. I guess that really doesn't help you guys much, but I want to sort of quell the urgency.

Thanks so much for the fantastic reviews and please please review this as well!


	13. Chap 13: Dragged into Disaster

Delusion 13

A/N: Had final exams, but now am free to write (for two weeks at least… then I have to go out of town). Sorry for the delay!

Justin Finch-Fletchley was enjoying a lovely read that Neville had given him, something nice about herbology. Safe, reliable, interesting…he ran a hand through his curly mop of hair and sighed in pleasure.

He really did love reading about plants. Suddenly he heard a noise from outside the common room (which had up till now been absolutely serene). It was a muffled sort of "eep!". Ever the good guy, Justin threw the book down and half-walked half-ran to the entrance and peeked out.

Just Hannah Abbott stood there, looking shaken. "Are you okay?" Justin asked the poor girl, although they weren't very close.

She gasped when she saw him and turned in the other direction and marched away. Before Justin could comprehend this she abruptly turned right back around and came up to him. "Hi, Justin," she said, her breathing fairly normal.

Well. He didn't quite know what to say. "Are you okay?" he finally repeated after much hesitation.

She nodded. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

He scratched his head. Had he imagined the whole thing? "Er… never mind," he sighed in desperation. She gave him a puzzled look but said nothing.

"Are you going into the common room?" she finally asked.

This is awkward, Justin thought unhappily. "Um, yeah, I guess." Well, now at least he had something to do. He led the way into the common room and noticed with much unease that she followed him right in. That Abbott girl was a strange one, she was. He didn't much like her and couldn't understand how his friend Ernie Macmillan was dating her.

He'd just settled down with his lovely book when she began to talk again. "Oh, what's that your reading?" she inquired. Polite enough, and Justin couldn't just ignore her.

"Just this, um, Herbology book. I like Herbology a lot," he stammered. Talking to girls was not one of his strong points. Especially weird ones.

"Really?" her eyebrows shot up. "Do you like, um, Neville? He's into Herbology too."

Justin nodded, relieved that at least there was something to talk about if she insisted on following him around. "Yeah. Neville and I are pretty good friends."

Hannah swallowed audibly and continued. "So, say if Neville was, um, into Hermione Granger what would you do?"

Justin shrugged. "I dunno. I wouldn't really do anything. Neville can fancy whoever he wants to fancy, right?"

Hannah looked rather disappointed for a moment but then quickly steered the conversation into another route. "So, who do _you_ fancy, Justin?"

"Um… I don't know?" Justin began timidly.

"Of course you do. Tell me now," Hannah demanded, giggling slightly.

"Seriously," Justin pleaded. "I really don't know."

"You fancy… you fancy… Millicent Bulstrode, don't you," Hannah said quickly.

"What? NO!" Justin yelped, thoroughly flabbergasted. "Of course not! How could you even suggest… my gosh, I'd do Pansy Parkinson, Merlin save my soul, before I'd ever fancy Millicent! You're a sick girl!"

Hannah smiled demurely and didn't seem affected in the least by Justin's sudden outburst. "Sorry, Justin," she apologized, "but I had to. I'm so sorry, please forgive me! Love ya now I have to go find me some..." she trailed off and hurriedly exited the common room.

What? What had he said? Crap, Justin thought wretchedly, I'm never going to get any girls.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Mother of Merlin, where is that girl?" Pansy demanded, giving Sally Anne a look. "I knew I shouldn't have left the terrorizing up to you!"

Sally Anne scowled. "Oh, stuff it, Pansy. I did a perfectly good job of scaring the shit out of her, just you wait. She'll show. And she'll have dirt on Finch-Fletchley."

Millicent bounded up to the two girls, who were waiting in a secluded hall. "There you guys are! Someone's looking for you!" She lowered her voice and giggled, "It's a Hufflepuff. What are we going to do to it?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Millicent, grow up. Hufflepuffs aren't toys or pets, okay? They're people, like us. Only stupid people. Where is that damn girl anyway?"

A meek, tiny cowering girl stepped out from behind Millicent. "I-I-I…t-t-tried my b-b-best," she stuttered softly.

"Christ, Abbott," Sally Anne growled, "Stop with the nonsensical stuttering. We don't need it. It's not like we're evil villainesses or anything. Well, not yet," she paused. "What'd you get on that Finch-Fletchley kid anyway?"

Hannah sighed and whipped out her wand. "Look, I used a simple recording spell."

The girls fell silent as Hannah forced her spell to replay itself. Soon they heard Justin's voice. "I'd do Pansy Parkinson…" Justin was saying.

Pansy yelped. "Okay, just for that, we're so murdering him."

Millicent turned green. "We can't Pansy. My dad would kill me if he found out I was killing people! He says that nice girls don't go around doing that stuff."

Sally Anne gave Millicent an odd look. "Your dad's really weird," she finally said.

Suddenly Pansy let out a growl. "Get back here, Abbott," she barked. "Thinking you can sneak away when we quarrel? Nice try. Just for that I'm gonna send you back wishing you never came."

"Funny, Pansy," Sally Anne remarked coolly, "but I think she already felt that way."

Hannah trembled. "Of course not," she chattered. "I wanted to come."

"And you _lie_ on top of that?" Pansy glared. "A lying Hufflepuff. How wonderful. Tell me more about Finch-Fletchley."

"Well, um, he's into herbology…he likes to read, um, what else… he, er, might fancy you Pansy… after what he said, you know? Um, ok, he likes Gryffindors. I think he's scared of Harry Potter," Hannah said quickly.

"It looks like she's pulling this out of her arse," Millicent pointed out, making a good observation.

"No, no, hold on," Pansy replied, holding out a perfectly manicured hand to shush Millie. "I agree she's probably bullshitting but there's some truth in there. Even if there's not it's reason enough. Let's see… I'm getting an idea, getting an idea! You, Abbott, leave!"

Hannah ran.

Pansy turned back to her girls. "Okay, okay. So let me think a little bit and then let's plan something out. Sally Anne, you think too. And nothing disgustingly morbid. I'm not some sick sap."

Sally Anne sighed but for the most part seemed compliant. _At least you think you're not…_

_-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Harry didn't quite know what to do. How in the world was he supposed to put Hermione with, disgusting as it was, Malfoy? How was he supposed to do that and not go absolutely stark raving mad?

He'd rather see Hermione with _Finch-Fletchley_ than with Malfoy.

Then again, she had been really, really bad lately. And mean. And awful! He remembered with distaste the way Pansy had explained that bet. Hermione had worked with Malfoy just so Harry couldn't get with Pansy. Well, she had it out for him, so he deserved to give her some major payback.

It was just that… he didn't quite want to pay her back like this. For all he knew she'd like it. She'd already slept with him (Oh his poor mind!) and… canoodled with him and what not… so by golly, maybe this idea wasn't the best one.

So what could he do? What would show Hermione that she could not, under any circumstances, mess with him in such an awful manner? Well, what had Hermione done to him? He made a list in his head.

She had definitely:

1.Humiliated him 

2.Slept with his archenemy 

3.Tried to hinder true love (well, it _was_ a stretch, but who knows, maybe Pansy was his true love!) 

Well, he didn't really want to humiliate Hermione. She was probably drugged up with something that git Malfoy had snuck into her drink. And he did not want to sleep with her archenemy; he did not play on that side of the Quidditch pitch! Wait, though. Malfoy was no longer her archenemy. So who was? Ah, probably one of those Slytherin girls. Well, he was not about to fuck Millicent, that was out. That left the deterrence of true love.

Oh. _Oh_. What if, what if by some totally bizarre twist, Hermione's true love was Malfoy? Shit! A crazy idea began to form in Harry's brain. He had to stop it. Had to pull them apart from each other…

His new plan: making Hermione and Malfoy hate each other. Big time.

He'd tell Pansy later.

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Hermione threw the parchment at Draco. "You are so annoying!" she yelled. "This is obviously the handiwork of idiots! And there are only two houses that could produce someone with such atrocious spelling! Don't you get it? It's not a Gryffindor because I don't recognize the handwriting, and it's not a Ravenclaw because they are really smart! It's obviously either a Slytherin or a Hufflepuff!"

"You did it again!" he roared back. "Don't put those houses together! Hufflepuffs are disgusting creatures and they don't need to be anywhere near the power that is Slytherin! And that is not a Slytherin's handiwork, don't you think we're a little more cunning than that?!"

"No you're not! This is definitely a Slytherin! In fact I bet it's Pansy Parkinson or something! Huh, huh, how do you like that? I'm blaming your girlfriend!"

He stood up, the grey eyes blazing. "She is _not_ my girlfriend, Granger," he spat in anger. "Not at all. And if you'll excuse me, I'm leaving. We are not working together. You can find out by yourself because honestly, I do not care."

Hermione seethed in anger as Draco exited the library with a bang, earning a harsh reprimand from Madame Pince. "Oh, how I hate him," she muttered under her breath. "I hate him. I hate him. I hate him!" In frustration she threw the book (_How to Determine if_ _You are Being Stalked_) on the floor and let out a small but tyrannical yell.

Promptly Madame Pince was by her side. "Miss Granger," she said primly, "if you cannot control yourself, please leave. This is a library. We must be quiet."

The second time! The second bloody time she was kicked out of the bloody library because of that bloody son of a pureblood prat! She stomped out of the library and vowed to find him and hex him until that stupid blonde hair was no longer recognizable.

Tramping down the hall in anger, Hermione muttered innumerable curses under her breath and hissed at anyone who passed by. "Is she drunk?" she heard a fellow seventh year say. His friend replied, "I dunno… I thought she didn't touch the stuff." Clenching her fists, Hermione vowed not to commit murder and carried on towards the Gryffindor tower. But of course, as her ill luck would have it, Harry happened to come on by just as she turned into a corridor. Blimey. He looked rather upset and he was panting heavily.

"Hermione," he greeted her in a strangled, odd sort of voice.

She raised an eyebrow in concern. "Are you feeling okay, Harry?"

He nodded. "Oh, I'm totally fine. How are you?"

Giving him a peculiar glance, Hermione answered, "Um, I'm okay… why?"

"What's wrong with asking someone how they're feeling? Do you have a problem with courtesy, Hermione?" he erupted.

"Wow there, Harry, calm down," Hermione soothed in the most calm manner she could muster although part of her wanted to simply bolt. Harry looked absolutely crazy.

"I'm sorry Hermione," he apologized quickly. "I'm feeling a little off. Rainy weather just doesn't suit me."

"Harry, sweetie, it's quite sunny out," Hermione clarified ruefully.

"Damn weather always keeps changing on me!" He started to yell, but quickly lowered his voice until it was in a normal range. Hermione noted that his voice seemed to squeak angrily every time he was blimmin mad.

"So, um, I hope you're feeling better," Hermione changed the conversation.

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"Yeah, I'm lovely. You know, the other day, Malfoy was being mean to a Muggleborn," Harry decided that now, in the corridor speaking with his ex-best friend (well, for now at least) was the best time to start his plan. Ooh, she was going to be pissed…

She gave him another really weird look. "Um, so?"

Harry gaped. _Um, so?_ What did she mean, "so"? _So?_ SO? This was a girl who championed for the rights of house-elves and if her ex-boyfriend, the boy she was madly in love with, made fun of her own kind she said, "Um, so"? What was the world coming to! Gods, he had corrupted her even more than Harry had thought. She was immune to his flaws! The first sign of true love!

Harry felt bile rising up in his throat but he forced it down. _It's okay if Hermione's in_ _love with your archenemy_, he told himself, _because when I get through they're going to hate each other…_

"It was horrid. He called her a, you don't mind if I say it, right… a mud blood! I wanted to hex him but it was too much effort," he began again.

"Yeah, well he's not worth much. Don't bother. I've tried to get him to stop with that whole muggleborn thing but he won't, so whatever. Don't lose your cool," she responded with a shrug.

Harry felt rage burn inside of him but swallowed it down again. "Hermione," he protested, "he...is really mean to house-elves!"

Hermione frowned at him. "Harry, um, we kind of found out about that in second year…you know, Dobby and stuff… it's old news now. Why don't you go take a nap? You're acting very funny, and I don't mean it in the ha-ha way. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go find Draco Malfoy, ok?"

Harry stared at her as she walked hurriedly away from him. He was being left behind for Draco Malfoy. Oh this was so much more serious than he had originally thought! Not only did she casually overlook his multiple flaws (and he had only brought the most important ones up), she was going to look for him now? But _why_? He thought they were over!

Oh, dear. This was going to be so difficult.

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Justin was just stepping out for a cool, refreshing walk in the nice, sunny weather when a blonde and very angry blonde came running up to him. Justin froze in terror. Oh no it was that vile… evil… crazy Malfoy!

"Don't hurt me!" he squeaked.

"Don't hurt you? How dare you mess around in my social life, you lowly Hufflepuff half-blood!" Malfoy screeched.

Justin looked up in fear and gulped. "I don't know…shit, it's not going to help me if I tell you I really don't know what you're talking about, is it?"

Malfoy smiled sadistically. "Not in the least."

"Don't kill me please!" Justin cowered.

"Oh, no, no, no," Malfoy grinned. "I don't believe in killing."

If Justin wasn't so terrified he would've snorted but he kept shut. "What're you going to do?" he asked in fear, even though he really didn't know what was going on. Lately everyone had been so weird!

"Let me contact that other person that you have rudely involved in this mess, and then I'll tell you. I don't need _you_ to set me up, although, I must say, your judgment isn't hideous. But _you_ are! Now out of my sight, cretin!"

Justin ran, confused, upset, and scared. He had to do something...had to ask someone. Aha! Hermione Granger, the smartest girl in the school, would surely protect him! Breahting heavily he scuttled off to find that girl, not knowing how deeply he was about to get involved.

A/N: Anyone see the major D/Hr moment?? It excited me! So, anyway, a couple of people asked me for e-mail updates, I guess I can do them… so um, leave your e-mail address if you want to be added to my list.

Thank you so much for your reviews! Almost 300! Yay! Once again, I'd love your input on how the story is turning out.


	14. Chap 14: Deep Feelings

Delusion 14

Hermione was cooling off to the best of her abilities, in her favorite calm-you-down spot. Yes, the library. Shortly after her encounter with Harry, she'd given up on finding ferret boy for the time being and snuck right back into the library when Madam Pince was yelling at some other poor soul. Kindred spirit, really.

She buried her head in her hands and contemplated banging it against the table. Why, oh why had she gotten involved in this whole thing in the first place? She was a bad girl! A horrible, horrible friend and she had been mean to countless people… that god-forsaken Draco Malfoy had rubbed off on her, and not in a good way. Just as she was deciding how to craft her suicide note (or his. She couldn't tell which one she'd prefer), someone plopped down next to her.

Hermione pursed her lips and stared at the person. Ah, Justin Finch-Fletchley. "Look, Justin," she began, "I don't have the time for whatever the hell you're on about right now. Go away."

See? She had been rude and thoughtless again! Damn Malfoy! Damn him, damn him, damn him!

"Hermione," Justin said firmly, "I'm very scared."

This caught her off-guard. "Why?" she prodded, her voice narrowed.

"Because...I've been threatened…by that evil Slytherin boy, Malfoy. Oh, Merlin, Hermione, I'm so scared! He was talking about stuff I knew nothing about and…and…it's scaring me."

"So you've mentioned," Hermione noted. "Anyhow, what in the devils was Malfoy saying to you?"

"He accused me of messing around in his social-life, something about setting him up…"

Justin's pale face suddenly turned paler. Perhaps it was because he had seen the expression on her face, Hermione mused. Although she had generally liked Justin, she suddenly felt a strong animosity towards the brat.

"It was you!" she gasped. "I cannot believe it! Oh, you are not getting away…come back here!" Grabbing him by the arm, she frantically pulled him out of the library (much to Madam Pince's horrified shock)

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"Wait, what?" Justin gasped, as he struggled to pull his arm out of Hermione's firm and uncomfortable grip. The whole world was mad, it was. Everyone was going bonkers!

"I cannot believe you are the type of sick pervert who enjoys setting people that clearly hate each other up," Hermione muttered. "And I'm not dealing with you alone. Come along now. We're off to find the ferret, that horrible creature of Slytherin!"

Justin swallowed and looked at Hermione, who clearly looked off of her rocker. "Okay, Hermione," he smiled as he took a step backward, trying to extricate himself from her, "calm down…whatever the hell is bothering you, it's okay…"

Hermione frowned at him. "Justin. You can't escape. A pity, really, that it turned out to be you, but I am appalled that you would play such a sick joke especially because this is MALFOY!"

"Hermione," Justin tried again. "Would it help if I told you it wasn't me?"

Hermione stopped and Justin counted to five. No attacks yet; maybe she was sane. He decided it was worth a try to say something else. "Look…I don't know what you're on about. I didn't know what Malfoy was on about either. I…the only reason I came to you is, because well, I trust you and I, um, value your Gryffindor bravery and everything…and…"

He didn't want to say it was because he was ready to wet his pants and Hermione was the only person he could think of strong enough to stand against Malfoy (except for Harry Potter, but Justin was forever scared and in debt of Harry; couldn't go there).

"So you came to me because you were terrified and you needed someone to save your hide," Hermione finished up for him. "Very well. I believe you."

"Really?" Justin's cowering face broke into a grin and his hammering heart slowly (very slowly, mind you) began to slow. "Wow, thanks, Hermione, I always knew that you were the greatest."

"And I'm sorry to say I didn't know until now that you were a user. Coming to me so I could protect you? I don't think so. Let's go talk to Malfoy about this together, shall we?"

Justin's relief quickly turned into horror. "Er," he began sweating profusely and his eyes darted from here to there, "I don't want to."

"Pity," Hermione repeated and dragged him through the corridors. "Speaking of Draco, do you know where he is? It would make things so much easier."

Justin was stunned. Since when was Hermione Granger, the smart, pretty Gryffindor who hung around with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, on a first-name basis with Draco Malfoy, known for his love of anything evil and his lack of conscience? Oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin… they'd kill him. They'd do the deed together like the sick people they were and then they'd hide his body and laugh about it quite diabolically and no one would ever know!!

"Hey, Justin, are you alright?" Hermione was asking him concernedly.

The panic must've been visible on his face. He swallowed and nodded, feeling nauseous. "Frmf," he reassured her. "Jebr."

Hermione shot him a funny look. "Okay, so I'm guessing you don't know where Malfoy is."

Why the hell did she flip flop between first and last names? Just pick one, Justin wanted to yell, but he didn't, for fear of what was coming to him. He shook his head vigorously and shrugged. "Blrg."

"Right. You do that."

A few moments passed in silence as the two of them walked down corridor after corridor, haunt after haunt. And then, quite by accident, Justin walked headlong into a figure coming out of the dark. He stepped away, petrified, and then breathed a huge sigh of relief to see that it was only Hermione's friend Ron Weasley instead of Professor Snape or Malfoy or some other iniquitous thing.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed in shock. And then, frostily, he added, "It's been a while."

Hermione turned apologetic. "I'm so sorry Ron… I have a number of things going on in my life right now…"

Later, when he looked back on it, Justin didn't know where the courage had come from. Didn't know he had it in him. But somehow, it was there, and it swelled up like a great balloon only to burst when he spat out his comment…

"Yeah, like being on a first name basis with Draco Sodding Malfoy!"

And as soon as the traitorous words that belied his thoughts had escaped his mouth, his face turned white with fear and he slowly began to back away from Hermione in utter, utter fear.

Ron gasped and gave Hermione a searching, puzzled look, as if to say, "Is this wanker right?"

Hermione looked like she wanted to strangle Justin right then and there but over all she kept it pretty calm and collected. "Well, what do you know," she began icily, sending Justin a glare (which somehow went over Ron's head). "Actually, Justin is only partially right. He's asked me to refer to him as Draco, but I just think of him as Malfoy…the same, awful slimy nancy boy that's been bothering us for years. I do think that Justin, however, would like to have you believe that there is a little more between Malfoy and myself than just a potions project…"

"So, Granger, I'm an awful, slimy nancy boy that's been bothering you for years?" Justin nearly wet himself when he saw just who had stepped out of the shadows.

"N-n-n-o," Justin started, even though the comment wasn't directed at him, "s-s-she m-means you are a wonderful, wonderful, happy, healthy Slytherin."

Justin instantly knew it had been the wrong thing to say, at the wrong time. In fact, nobody should ever tell a Slytherin that they looked happy and healthy. Such matters were Hufflepuffian; Slytherins wanted to look dangerous and exciting.

Suddenly he was subjected to three very murderous glowers from three very angry people. Ron was glowering at him because he had insinuated that there was more to a relationship between Malfoy and Hermione, Hermione was glowering at him because she thought he was up to something between Malfoy and herself, and Malfoy was glowering at him because Malfoy always glowered at him.

Oh God. He was scared. "Look," he began.

"What is this," Ron spoke sharply, "that you said about Malfoy and Hermione?"

"Hey!" Malfoy continued the harassment, "So I was completely spot-on! How dare you try to set me up with her?"

Ron gasped. "You tried to set them up?!?! Why I ought to just break every little bone in your body…"

"I'm going to rip you to pieces and feed your flesh to your fellow Hufflepuff freaks!" Malfoy yelled.

Both boys dove for him at exactly the same time.

Justin yelped. Hermione shouted, "STOP IT!" at the top of her lungs and came between the three of them.

"Stop it," she repeated firmly when she had warranted everyone's attention. "Just because Justin's been a bloody idiot doesn't mean that we all need to go crazy. Anyhow, I actually believe that Justin didn't try to set us up. Doesn't mean he wouldn't have tried though," she scowled fiercely.

"But someone tried to set the two of you up?" Ron cut in, still giving Justin a very mean look.

"Not that it's any of your business, Weasley, but _yes_, if you haven't gotten the obvious by now," Malfoy answered savagely.

"Draco and I are just trying to find out who did it," Hermione explained.

"So you are on a first-name basis with him?" Ron looked positively corrupted.

"Look, I worked with him on a potions project and someone tried to set me up with him!" Hermione pacified. "Sometimes calling him by his god-given name makes it easier for us; less animosity in the work-place and stuff."

Ron harrumphed, Malfoy grinned, and Justin wished the floor would swallow him.

"Hey," Malfoy said suddenly, turning on him, "if he didn't do it, why's he involved in this thing?"

Justin shrugged. "Hrgh," he managed to get out.

"Don't worry," came Hermione's reassurance, "he tends to do that."

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Pansy was pacing hallways as usual with crony Millicent and half-crony half-bitch Sally Anne when she suddenly decided to try something she'd wanted to try for a while. "Hey, gang," she spoke, "let's go to the library."

For a second, silence. Then—

"The library? Where _is_ that?" Millicent asked, baffled. Sally Anne had a slightly ruder answer.

"The library? Pansy, please tell me you didn't sample some of Malcom Baddock's, ah, products."

Pansy sighed. "Muddy Granger always goes there and look at her. She's practically perfect; lucky wench. Plus she's got us trying to set her up with beautiful, beautiful Draco. What more could she possibly want? I'm just thinking we should give it a try too; see what it holds, you know?"

"Yeah, well, Granger's just a breed of her own," Sally Anne replied, this time quietly. The girls were reflecting on the genius of Hermione Granger; perhaps it was something to do with the library.

"And anyway, I think it's the one part of the school I haven't been to," Millicent suddenly said.

"Liar," Pansy grinned. "But anyway, you guys up for it?"

The girls shrugged. "Sure, why not?" Sally Anne finally answered. "Maybe if we're lucky, might find a few first-years to scare the shit out of."

"Eh, could be a bonus."

The girls traipsed down to the library quietly, making sure that their reputation was still intact. It simply wouldn't do to have Millicent spotted in the library; that would kill off any status that she had worked to build and the Slytherin stupidity that she possessed along with Crabbe and Goyle would be tarnished.

Once there, Pansy motioned for them to be quiet and entered the library. Pretty much empty. "Okay, so, let's plan the next stage of Draco and Granger," she began. "Hopefully we get some ideas in here; now we can properly plan; we've got Finch-Fletchley and Millicent's mistake properly taken care of."

Sally Anne nodded. "I think we covered that pretty well. Knowing the fiery temper that both Draco and Granger have, he'll be dead by tomorrow morning."

"Dead?" Millicent gasped. "I don't want anyone to die because of my spelling!"

"Honestly, Millicent," Pansy frowned, "you're just too soft to be a Slytherin!"

"I am not soft," Millicent growled, and Pansy gave her a scared smile (remembering, of course, that Millicent was at least fifty pounds heavier than she was and a good five and a half inches taller).

"Okay, so…how are you supposed to set people up?" Sally Anne prompted the conversation in the right direction.

Just as Pansy was about to answer, a breathless Harry Potter came up to the three Slytherins. "Pansy," he said, shooting a glare at the other two, "I have to talk to you. Right now."

Pansy was annoyed. "Not now," she seethed.

"Yes, now," Harry insisted, and Pansy sighed. It seemed that Harry was like Draco in that regard; when he made up his mind about something, he bloody did it, whether it was a stupid idea or a good one.

"Girls, I'll be right back. You continue planning," Pansy dictated, and got up and followed Harry to a secluded area in the library.

"Pansy, listen," Harry's voice was urgent, "We had Malfoy and Hermione pegged all wrong."

"How so?" Pansy looked up, surprised. This she had not expected.

"First off, they may have broken up, but they still have feelings—and not just any feelings, _deep_ feelings—for each other. Hermione is constantly talking about him and I have a feeling that it was a lot more than…just…sleepingtogether," he coughed out, looking as if it pained him to say it.

Pansy opened and closed her mouth in distress. "You must be wrong," she finally replied. "I'm positive Draco doesn't get these deep feelings for girls. Draco is seriously just a wham, bam, thank-you ma'am type of boy. I promise."

Harry shrugged. "Fine, then," he scowled, his emerald eyes glittering, "don't believe me. But I'm right; I know I am. And therefore it is my new mission to break the two of them up for good. Make them hate each other. Make things back to the way they used to be."

Pansy was pained. She didn't know what to do. For the first time she really couldn't think of a thing to say. Finally she managed an, "Okay, do whatever you want…and as for us, we're going to put the set-up plan on hold until I check this out for myself."

Harry nodded and left the library as quickly as he came.

Pansy hurried back to her clique. "Ok, Harry's brought something to my attention," she began.

"Like how much he misses fucking you?" Sally Anne said in a bored voice.

Pansy sent her a dirty look. "Bitch. And anyhow, this surrounds our Draco-and-Granger-set-up-plan. Apparently, according to Harry—"

"So he's not even Potter anymore," Sally Anne spat. "I can't believe you, Pansy, getting chummy with a loser like him."

"I think he's nice," Pansy defended. "And that's not the point. Anyway, according to him, Draco and Granger harbor deep feelings for each other even though they're broken up. He was reluctant to say it…but I think he's talking about…the L word," she whispered.

Millicent laughed. "Like Draco even knows what that is!"

"Exactly what I told him," Pansy agreed. "I simply don't believe it."

"Well," Sally Anne supposed, quite thoughtfully, "perhaps they do harbor deep feelings. But maybe, it's not the L word. Maybe they just really still like each other. What's that word I'm thinking of…infatuation! Yeah! Like on last night's _Romantic Endeavors_, when Blowey kept thinking of Bismont even though they were so broken up?"

"Hmm," Pansy sighed. "We better go check this out."

"Hey, damn," Millicent suddenly noticed, "no firsties to torture."

Sally Anne scowled. "I _knew_ this was a stupid idea!"

A/N: Hey everyone, I'm so sorry for the delay; I have no real excuse except real life. Anyway, I know this isn't the longest of chapters, or for that matter, a chapter with pivotal Draco/Hermione interaction, but hopefully you guys are reading between the lines…thank you for the reviews, by the way. Hope you keep them coming! I do have a new mailing list for the story; if you want to be added, just leave your e-mail address in a review.

A/N Added 7/15- I'm so sorry, everyone. I edited this and accidentally clicked add new chapter. So it's still chapter 14; if you got a faulty author alert, I'm so sorry. But I'm working on chapter 15 and it should be out not too far from now.


	15. Chap 15: Unraveling

Delusion Chapter 15

Draco glared at the other three people. Never in his life had he expected to get into a spat of sorts with…Weasley, Hermione, and Finch-Fletchley. Unnerving as it was Draco was usually pretty good at handling unexpected situations. Usually, being the key word.

"I don't know what I'm going to do to you," he prowled around Justin fiercely. "I just don't know what. I cannot believe the nerve of you, you sodding little bastard!"

He glanced over at his partner in crime. She was seething, and her idiotic companion looked like he was about to foam at the mouth. "I should pound you to the ground," Weasley scowled.

For once Draco thought that maybe Weasley should let his unhealthy temper loose. After all, this way, stupid Finch-Fletchely could get the beating of his life, and Weasley could unleash his rage and hopefully get a detention for it too. Draco grinned grimly. "I don't think you're strong enough, Weasley," he noted.

Weasley growled. So far, so good. "Oh, yes I can," he spoke.

"Ron, no!" Hermione held him back.

Well, that wasn't going to work. Giving up because he didn't really care anymore, Draco gave Finch-Fletchley a dirty glance and said, "You better watch your back, arsehole," and sauntered quite dramatically down the hall.

He could practically feel their eyes on his back, and he smirked. Nobody ever forgot Draco Malfoy, oh no, no, no, no, no.

Suddenly he heard footsteps behind him. Spinning around he came face to face with Hermione. Weasley and Finch-Fletchley were nowhere to be seen…he presumed they'd already left. "Party's over?" Draco asked casually.

She nodded her head in the affirmative. "Oh, definitely… but it was quite a hassle convincing Ron that Justin didn't deserve to be beat up…"

"But he did!" Draco scowled. "He did. The bastard. How dare he try and set _you_ up with _me_!"

"I know," Hermione sighed, "that's just…ridiculous."

Now had it been Draco's imagination, or had Hermione actually sounded a bit soft? How…odd. And how silly of him to think so! Suddenly Draco felt something that he hadn't felt in a while….rather awkward, actually. He didn't feel awkward all that much, but the truth was, he was still a teenage boy, and as a rule of thumb they were generally quite prone to awkwardness. "Why are you here?" he snapped, trying to recover; the only way he knew how was to be rude and snappy.

"Dunno," she shrugged. "I…I guess I wanted to know if we were through messing with Harry and Pansy."

Draco considered. On one hand, he really didn't want to meddle in their affairs anymore. He could hardly believe he was thinking that, but honestly, it was just too damned stressful. And he needed a break, big time. And anyhow, they seemed to have broken up anyway. But on the other hand, Draco couldn't resist the offer. Plus, he was corrupting Hermione Granger in the process. That was a big bonus; not to mention really, really fun. "Of course not," he finally scoffed. "We're not through at all. I love this."

She grinned. "I've grown to accept it," and then she looked worried, and he nearly swooned at how sexy that was, "but still, it kind of makes me feel so guilty!"

"Why?"

"Because Harry wouldn't appreciate it…in fact, he'd be rightly pissed."

"Fuck him," Draco rolled his eyes.

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Pansy, Sally Anne, and Millicent observed Draco and Granger in the halls. "Damn it!" Sally Anne groaned. "He's completely infatuated."

Pansy sighed. "You're right. Look at them. Look at the look in his eyes. Wonder what they're saying."

"It doesn't matter what they're saying," Millicent said wisely. "It's all about _body_ _language_. And look at their body language! They're like, totally and completely in love. It's so romantic."

"Millie!" Pansy and Sally Anne gasped at the same time. "That's horrible. If they're in love," Pansy continued with a sneer, "I'll seriously kill them."

"They're not in love yet," Sally Anne assured, "but by the way things are going…ugh. They're hopelessly attracted to each other. Can't we please please please disfigure Granger?" she begged.

"No!" Pansy snapped. "I hate making other people look ugly. It's so gross. I'm never doing that again."

"But it was so fun," Millicent whined. "And that little girl was ugly to begin with, anyway."

Pansy didn't even dignify that with an answer. Turning her attention back to Draco and Granger, she noticed unhappily that Sally Anne was absolutely right. They did like each other. "Gross," she moaned. "I'm going to confront Draco about this."

"No, don't," Sally Anne argued, "He'll just get mad. You know how he is about his _feelings_," she groaned.

"Men," Pansy agreed. "So fucking insane about their feelings. Won't talk about them at all, especially idiot Draco. I'm still upset at him for cheating on our bet! Bastard! And the way he treats me is ridiculous!"

"I know," Millicent agreed, "But he does it because his father thinks women are inferior."

"Fuck his father," Sally Anne grinned. "But you have to admit that the man is unbelievably sexy."

Pansy scowled. "He's like a father figure to me," she pointed out, "so that's just gross. Shut up Sally Anne! Go play with Blaise."

"I think I will," came her derisive reply. "More fun than stalking Draco and his _girlfriend_."

"Don't call her that!" Pansy screeched after the other girl, but she knew she had to face the truth.

"Millicent," Pansy turned to the girl next to her, "we've got to do something. Setting them up… is ridiculous. That would only make him happy," she spat, "and I don't want to see Draco happy. No way."

"We could try and break them up," Millicent suggested.

"No. Harry's already bent upon that and I know that no amount of 'breaking up' will keep them apart. This calls for drastic measures."

"What are you going to do?" Millicent asked innocently.

"I don't care what Sally Anne says," Pansy sighed in defeat, "I've got to tell Draco how he feels. Hopefully he'll go in a crazy rage and keep the hell away from Granger."

"Probably will," Millicent agreed. "When are you going to tell him?"

"Right now."

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Ron Weasley was shocked. He would never have believed that Justin Finch-Fletchley had tried to set Hermione and Malfoy (who were on a first-name basis, disturbingly enough) up, unless he hadn't seen it with his own two eyes. It was difficult enough to comprehend that Hermione didn't seem to hate Malfoy all that much…and Malfoy hadn't called her a mudblood. What was wrong with them?

And what was wrong with Harry? Harry who had looked like he had been hired by someone to off Hermione; the way he was following her around? As Ron mused his feet walked him back to the Gryffindor common room, where oddly enough, Harry was _studying_.

"What is wrong with you?" Ron asked, disbelieving his eyes. "You don't study until you absolutely have to, and we don't have any sort of exam tomorrow!"

Harry shrugged. "I figured I might be able to think more like Hermione if I did what Hermione does. So I'm studying."

Ron scratched his head, truly confused. "Um, all right, Harry, can we talk a bit? You know, man to man?"

Harry looked up, bewilderment etched on his face. "Man to man? We're hardly men, Ron."

"Oh, you know what I mean," Ron rolled his eyes. "I'm serious. Put down the book, Harry. This is important."

"Well the hippogriff release of 1294 is important too," Harry argued faintly, but Ron was having none of it. Grabbing the book he chucked it clear across the room and glared at his friend.

"I do not care about the hippogriff release of 1294…wait, when did we start studying hippogriff releases? We never do bookwork in Care of Magical Creatures…it's all dangerous things!" Ron realized.

"General knowledge," Harry mumbled. "Ok, Ron, you want the truth?"

"Well yes I want the truth!" Ron practically screamed, utterly annoyed with his friend. "And don't start about how aliens—whatever they are—abducted you. I don't even know what a bloody alien is."

"It was just a joke," Harry hastily assured Ron. "The deal is that…Hermione…Malfoy…"

Ron froze. Oh, no. Was there something huge that he was missing? Was there? WAS THERE? Had Hermione not told him something very, very important such as that maybe she was gasp! shudder! kissing Malfoy? "What about Hermione…and Malfoy?" he finally asked, slowly.

"I'm trying to break them up," Harry said quietly. "Because they've gotten awfully friendly with each other…if you know what I'm saying."

"I do not know what you are saying!" Ron yelped. "What are you saying?"

"They fancy each other, okay, Ron?" Harry scowled. "It's just so obvious. And so I'm trying to remind Hermione that he's a bloody git."

"She knows he's a prat… doesn't she?" A pit of fear had formed in Ron's stomach. "Well, doesn't she? Oh, where is she! I have got to talk to her about this."

"She won't care," Harry cried numbly, "I reminded her that he called her a… you know, mudblood…and that he was generally mean and devil spawn, and she goes, oh, I know, whatever. Can you believe that? Can you believe that? How is she so blinded by true love?"

Ron's heart had grown cold. "True love?" he echoed. "Well…blimey. That's… deep. I thought they were just…fooling around, but…oh no! This is awful!"

Harry's eyes were glassy. "So tired. Hate studying."

"There is no time for studying!" Ron cried. "We have much more important things to do."

"Such as?" Harry's eyebrows shot up.

"Such as telling Hermione that she's bloody in love with Malfoy. Maybe hearing it from someone else will shock her out of her, ew, bliss. Come on! We have to find her right now!"

Both boys departed in search for the girl in question.

They found her tucked neatly in the library, as usual. She was poring over her Charms essay (not due for another three weeks) and making contented little noises. Very typical Hermione with the books.

"Hey, Hermione," Ron said gently, slipping into the seat next to her, and Harry went and sat across from her.

"Hello boys," she mumbled, not looking up from her work.

"Honestly, Hermione," Harry rolled his eyes, "I can't see how tickling charms are more important than your two best friends."

"And I'm surprised that you actually knew what the assignment was about," Hermione looked up with a grin. "It's not due for a bit."

"Exactly" Ron chimed in. "You are so ridiculously ahead that it's nearly impossible to keep up with you."

"Okay, what do you need?" Hermione looked pained. "I want to finish it. I've just gotten to Blofreg the Bombastic's misuse of the tickle charm in 1837, which led to a ministry prohibition for ninety-two years, and just recently they've developed a milder version of the tick—"

"Nobody cares," Harry told her forcefully. "Look we wanted to talk about Malfoy."

Was it just Ron, or had Hermione tensed up a bit? "What about Malfoy?" she asked nonchalantly. Too nonchalantly, Ron thought. Much too nonchalantly.

"Just how you've been spending so much time with him," Harry began and looked over to Ron for some help.

Ron picked it up. "Yes. And don't tell us its for your potions project because that's due in three days and knowing you you'd have finished it a month ago," he accused crossly. "And you've been spending time with him quite recently. Out with it Hermione!"

Hermione had a typical deer caught in the headlights expression on her face, but only for a moment. Soon she looked positively normal. Too normal, Ron thought grimly. Much too normal.

"Look, boys," she pacified gently, "project took a little longer than expected. And anyhow, once you get to know him, he's really not that big of a git. A prat, yes, but not utterly and completely pratty."

"Oh, really," Harry remarked dryly. "I doubt that somehow."

"Oh, stop it, Harry," Hermione snapped, "it's because of you that I got myself in this silly little mess anyhow."

"Because of me?" he gasped, and Ron had to admit that was completely unexpected.

"You and Pansy Parkinson," she accused.

Ron turned to Harry with an expression of disgust. "Pansy Parkinson? I thought that was ages ago! Please tell me you… oh… HARRY! I can't believe you! You want us to get mad at Hermione because she loves Malfoy when you're sitting here all fine and dandy thinking about Parkinson!"

Harry turned red. However, he wasn't given the chance to reply because Hermione had jumped in, "I _love_ Malfoy? I _love_ Malfoy? How could you _possibly_ think I love Malfoy!" she gaped.

"Because," Ron said, feeling helpless and silly that he'd let that slip already (and here he had been trying to work up a good momentum before letting that out), "you are always with him. You claim it's for other things but we saw the expression on your face. Face the truth Hermione. You're completely infatuated with him!"

Hermione's mouth opened and closed furiously. She looked positively woebegone. Too woebegone, Ron thought. Much too woebegone.

He felt very, very guilty all of a sudden. Perhaps there was a slight margin that she hadn't realized how she felt about him…and to have it broken to her in such a manner was horrendous.

"And plus," Harry finally spoke, "you've been sleeping with him… you ought to have realized that will have some effect on your feelings of him!"

"Sleeping with him?!" Hermione looked livid. Ron couldn't even process the information fast enough while Hermione smacked Harry with her book bag and huffed out of the library. "How dare you, Harry James Potter," she called over her shoulder, "accuse me of sleeping with him! I hope you do get back together with Parkinson, what do I care if you ruin your bloody life! I'm through helping you with anything!"

Ron turned to Harry, who was rubbing his head in pain. "She's sleeping with him?" he asked numbly.

-----

Draco scowled at Pansy. "What did you want to talk to me about?" he asked sharply. "Because honestly I could care less about what you have to say."

"Believe me Draco," Pansy shot back just as ugly a glare, "I wouldn't be talking to you if I wasn't concerned for your well-being."

"Give it a rest," he argued, knowing Pansy Parkinson never concerned herself with anyone's well-being. "And tell me the truth."

"Okay, Draco," Pansy smiled beatifically, immediately putting Draco on edge, "I'll tell you the truth. The whole truth."

"Well, I'm waiting," Draco snapped, although he felt a bit nervous.

"I have observed you lately," Pansy began as if she was a drill-sergeant, "and I have noticed you have been spending a lot of time with Muddy Granger."

Draco grimaced inwardly. The last thing he wanted was for Pansy to discover this. And somehow he didn't like the fact that she'd called Hermione Muddy Granger…and two months ago he would have laughed and agreed.

Because truthfully, Hermione wasn't all that muddy. At all. "I have not," he said simply.

But Pansy seemed to have notice the amount of time it took him to reply. "Yes you have. Whereas it's perfectly acceptable to spend time with the woman you're sleeping with…it really bothers me that you've fallen in love with a bloody Gryffindor, and I'm surprised you're taking it so well! I thought you didn't even _believe_ in love!"

"I don't!" he yelled, shocked beyond words. "Not at all! And I haven't been sleeping with her! What are you on about? I don't even like her!"

"That is a lie Draco," Pansy responded shrilly. "You're obsessed with her. Everything you do is just to see more of her!"

"That is NOT true!" Draco shrieked, not caring that he did sound a bit like a girl, "Not true at all! I am NOT sleeping with her! Where did you get such an asinine idea?"

"I heard you talking to her!" Pansy shrieked back, "and it was perfectly obvious what the two of you have been doing on pretense of your potions project!"

"Well if it was so obvious then how come you ended up breaking up with Potter! Only because Hermione and I were behind it!"

"What?" Pansy looked shocked.

Uh-oh, Draco thought furiously. He'd really blown it now. Holding his breath he prepared himself.

"I BROKE UP WITH HIM BECAUSE OF YOU?! Draco you CHEATING scum I hope you rot in Merlin's underpants! I cannot believe you! And you involved Hermione Granger in it too? No wonder she was trying to chat with me! I am appalled, Draco," Pansy looked livid, "and I'm never speaking with you again. Now if you'll excuse me I've got to go tell Harry what you've done."

"Don't tell Potter, Pans," Draco began, hedging, but it was no use. She had already left the Slytherin common rooms.

Forlornly Draco sighed and looked at the floor. Things had really blown up now. He wondered, however, if the thing with…if what Pansy had said was true. Of course he wasn't in love with Hermione…but there may just be…ugh. He hated to admit it, but he was _slightly_ infatuated with her.

Crap.

A/N: Yeah, yeah, yeah. This fic is drawing to a close. Just a few more chapters left, I hope. This chapter was the beginning of what I like to call the "Unraveling". Where everyone finds out everything. Anyway, please tell me what you thought. I love reviews and I love feedback… hint hint! Oh and remember to put your e-mail in the review (and tell me if you actually want to be on it) if you want to be on the mailing list.


	16. Chap 16: Unraveling Part II

Delusion Chapter 16

Harry Potter was pacing. Pacing because he couldn't stop thinking about how much he hated Pansy Parkinson. Pansy was first-class bitch. She should win the whore award, Harry thought furiously. He hated her. He hated her, hated her, hated her! She was so… ugh, he couldn't even complete his sentence.

Because the truth was, he didn't hate her.

He was simply mad at her.

Very mad.

He'd fallen for her, and he'd fallen fast. He'd fallen so fast he couldn't put his hands out to stop his fall. And now he was paying the price, in the form of Pansy-is-cheating-scum-bitch-yeah-yeah-blah-blah-blah.

He knew they'd already argued it out; that they'd already put this behind themselves in order to get Hermione and Malfoy away from each other.

But… Hermione had seemed, well, really quite angry when he'd brought it up. So angry that he felt that maybe she hadn't slept with Malfoy after all.

But she did like him; that much was obvious. She really, really liked him. Harry wanted to crush Malfoy's pallid little neck. Disgusting, vile, stupid son of a bitch.

It was just as Harry was thinking these forlorn, unhappy, negative thoughts when the girl who had been bugging him burst into his common room. "Pansy?" Harry gaped at her, shocked.

"Harry… Potter," she corrected herself, looking miserable. "Potter. We need to talk."

"What is it, Parkinson?" he bit out, although he was too tired of this whole mess to truly be angry at her any more. He just wanted to let everything go.

"We…we were wrong. And, there is something else. Sit on the couch. You may feel dizzy after I tell you this," she demanded, and so he sat, bewildered as he was.

She proceeded to tell him the most unbelievable things he'd heard. "First off," she started, "it turns out that Granger and Draco weren't sleeping together. But they so like each other. It's sickening. I hate puppy love. I hate love. It's just disturbing! It's just gross! It's just vile. Oh it's so vile; so fil—"

Harry decided now was a good time to cut her off. "Go on," he interrupted, "believe me I know how vile puppy love is but we don't need to spend hours talking about it. Yes, I know they weren't sleeping together – Hermione nearly murdered me when I suggested that they were…but you're right. They're completely infatuated with each other. What else do you have to say?" It was all very routine. Harry didn't let any emotion slip into his voice.

"That… Draco and Granger…they broke us up. They staged the whole thing because they didn't want us together." Her voice was strained.

Harry almost couldn't breathe. He felt as if someone had shoved a bloodpop in his mouth and he was choking on it. "What?" he echoed.

"Yeah. Draco's motive – you were originally a bet, right. Draco cheated. Duh. I should've known. He's a cheating little unmentionable…ooooh I could just squish him! I could just rip his little eyes out and feed them to his stupid owl and ooh---"

Harry was getting a little worried. "Calm down, Parkinson," he instructed, "Yes, Malfoy is a contemptible wretched horrible little _thing_ but we cannot spend hours discussing _it_. What was…Hermione's motive? Why would she care who I dated?"

Pansy gave him a stern look. "Please. She's terribly bigoted you know."

"Bigoted?" Harry repeated, flabbergasted. "Bigoted? Hermione isn't bigoted! Hermione's like, the most…un-bigoted person I know!"

"Excuse me? I bet she couldn't stand the sight of a Slytherin and a Gryffindor together, which not only makes her bigoted but extremely hypocritical, don't you think?"

"Erm… yeah," Harry agreed after a moment. "That hypocritical little…! Ugh! She makes me so mad! Excuse me!" he stomped out of the room, fuming.

Pansy grinned. It always made her feel a little better when people didn't get along.

-----

Draco couldn't move. Ever since he realized (after Pansy had rudely pointed it out) that he might slightly fancy Hermione, he didn't want to go anywhere near her. The further away he was from her, the better!

What would people say?

Here he was, battling it out so Potter wouldn't get with Pansy. He was completely against Slytherin and Gryffindor relations. And… then he ended up fancying Hermione Granger. How disturbing. How very, very bad.

It would kill his reputation.

His father and mother would be livid. His mother probably because Hermione didn't wear Fancy-Witch-Wear and his father because Hermione was smarter than him. And then there was that little matter of her being a mud blood. Although, contrary to popular belief, his father most certainly did not have dead mudbloods chained to the walls.

His mother would never let that happen. It wouldn't be tasteful.

Morosely, Draco paced the common room. He had to do something about his stupid little crush. And anyway, Hermione would never go for him. Although Draco hated to admit it, he did kind of have that little teenage thing commonly called insecurity.

And what if Hermione didn't like him back? Not only would that hurt his ego, really massacre his reputation, and be generally detrimental…might it also make him feel bad? Yes. In fact, quite bad.

Damn Pansy! Damn her to hell and back!

The best thing was just to keep the hell away from Hermione forever. That shouldn't be too difficult, right, considering they went to a small private school and only had one class (Double Potions) together and generally never saw each other and hadn't been working together for the last few months. It would be totally and completely fine. He'd _never_ see her.

What a lie.

Sighing morosely Draco left his common room. Perhaps bullying a firstie or something would make him feel better. Or using Finch-Fletchley as a punching bag. Lo and behold, he bumped into the one girl he'd totally sworn off.

"Ah, Hermione," Draco could feel himself blushing, which made him just hopping mad. How could he blush? He was the King of All Who Did Not Blush When Embarrassed. He _always_ kept his cool! So what was he doing? He could feel the red tingeing his cheeks; how horrible!

"Draco," she returned cordially. Draco could barely look her in the eyes; he was so nervous and so scared that she would be able to detect the rouge on his cheeks.

"Er…I have to go…kill something," he finished lamely and nearly sprinted down the hall. Fighting the urge to flee, he made sure he walked slowly so that he still retained his Cool Draco image. Oh, God… how could this be happening to him? How utterly depressing!

He wanted very badly to turn around and see Hermione again, maybe just to check out her expression, but he used every ounce of his willpower to prevent himself from doing such an abysmally Weasley-like thing. He would not be brought down to that level. No, he most certainly would not.

Unfortunately this little brush with her certainly clarified one thing. Now that he was aware of his crush, he couldn't help but think about her. _All_ the fucking time. It was so very irritating! Perhaps a walk would clear his mind. He stepped outside into the cool breeze and took a great gulp of air. Quiet at last. Now maybe he could like Obliviate himself or something and forget about this stupid crush on that stupid girl.

No such luck. For yet another person interrupted the peacemaking of his inner psyche: Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived to Make His Life Miserable.

Keeping his head down should the urge to annoy take over, Draco sidestepped the mopey looking Potter and decided now was unquestionably not a good time for conflict.

Regrettably, Potter had a different idea altogether. "Hey, Malfoy," he said loudly when he saw Draco. "You little dipshit! Do you know what you've done recently?"

"A number of things," Draco suggested, a bit bowled over.

"NO," Potter replied vehemently. "No. You know what you've done? You've sabotaged my relationship, that's what you've done! And you've taken a very good friend of mine to the…Dark Side," he whispered the end two words. Draco could practically feel him capitalizing them.

"Potter," he scowled sarcastically, "how could I have sabotaged your relationship? Unless you're mixing up your bouts of insanity with real life," he smirked.

"Oh, shove it, Malfoy. You know very well I'm talking about Pansy."

Draco went rigid. So Potter knew – obviously, Pansy had squealed. Yet another reason to really despise her. "So? You're telling me thanks for not letting you stay with a complete ditz? A cunning, er, manipulative…ditz…okay, not a ditz, but a real _witch_ with a b!"

Potter stopped suddenly. "Witch with a b?" he echoed. "Oh, witch with a b! She is not! You're the witch… er… she's a witch too… but not with a b! You stupid wizard with a b!"

"Potter. I'm not a bizard."

Potter looked ready to tear his hair out. "Just…oh, you infuriate me," he snapped. "I ought to punch you."

"Yeah, maybe you should," Draco taunted. "Snape'll be here the minute you do and you know it."

"Why? Have you got a dirty little affair going on with him so that he has to protect you every step of the way?" Potter sneered.

Disgusted Draco chose not to reply. "No, but I may have tainted your best friend."

"Hermione!" Potter growled. "How dare you put her up to this? I'm sure you did. She wouldn't have impaired my relationship with Pansy all by herself."

"Au contraire," Draco smirked. "I merely suggested the plan to her. It was her decision and she chose to go along with me."

"She did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did to—all fucking right, we're not in bloody first year. She did, she did, she did!"

"Did not, did not, did not!"

"Did not!" Draco grinned to himself, waiting for the inevitable—

"DID!" Harry burst out.

"Hah, you admit to it!" Draco pointed out gleefully. "See, she did!" He did not care that he had had to resort to the most childish of tactics to get his point across; it had worked, didn't it?

Potter clenched his fists, presumably in uncontrollable anger. "You're maddening," he ground out. "I seriously hope you fall into a ditch and die."

"Feeling's mutual," Draco bit back. "What are you harassing me for?"

"Stay the hell away from Hermione!"

"Then you stay the hell away from Pansy!"

With a harrumph both boys stomped away from each other, not without sending each other deathly glares. Draco was fuming. The nerve of Potter, telling him to stay away from Hermione. No matter that earlier that had been exactly his plan; now, just to irk Potter he had to spend every waking moment with the girl.

And how dare Potter step near Pansy! Pansy was a respected Slytherin; no need dirtying her with Gryffindor filth.

It was only then that Draco realized how hypocritical he was being.

Awww, holy shit, he had a crush on a Gyrffie…

----

Meanwhile, Hermione was in a rather similar predicament. Namely, she too had discovered that she was attracted to someone she'd really rather not be attracted to. It was bad. It was very, very bad. And she hated it.

No, she didn't. She liked it.

She couldn't decide! Hermione had to be on top of things and… not being on top of things was decidedly horrible.

And just when she thought things just couldn't get any worse, Harry stormed into the common room and shot her a very dirty look, so dirty that she instantly knew that he knew and that he knew that she knew that they both knew.

"I know," he snarled at her, "that you teamed up with the ferret to get me and Pansy away from each other."

"I'm sorry," she sighed, "but I seriously thought she was going to play you. I didn't want to see you hurt!" She defended herself to the best of her abilities.

"I don't care! This hurts me so much more than if Pansy had. I could get over that. I just can't get over that one of my best friends teamed up with our enemy to destroy my happiness! And you ended up liking him in the process! Oh, don't deny it! Don't you deny it! I realize you didn't sleep with him – my bad – hah, not really, I'm so mad I could care less what you bloody think, but _don't_ deny that you aren't ferociously attracted to him!"

Hermione paused after Harry's absurdly long monologue. "Er, have you calmed down enough for me to speak?" she asked tentatively.

He flopped down onto a couch. "Yes, I suppose so," he mumbled and crossed his arms across his chest. "I'm very upset."

"It's okay, Harry," Hermione said. "I'm very sorry. I realize now that what I did was wrong. But I am not 'ferociously attracted' to Draco!"

"Yes, you are," he insisted firmly. "but you know what. Just to show you that I am not a hypocrite I say go for it! I doubt your best friends will try to break you up!"

Hermione shot him a look. "Don't play dumb," she realized she suddenly had the upper hand, "because I know very well you tried to break Draco and me up. And that Pansy tried to set us up. And that Sally Anne Perks and Millicent Bulstrode tried to help her. And please don't even inform me of what Ron did because right now he's the only person I like."

Harry was too tired to argue with her. "I agree. Ron…he's cool stuff. He's good. He's a true friend."

"Yeah. Unlike _some_ people!"

"Like you!" they burst out simultaneously. And then they burst out laughing.

Hermione knew at that instant that her feud with Harry was over. That was the best part about having a best friend. Sometimes, you really could forgive and forget.

"I'm sorry," she grinned, and he grinned back.

"Me too."

"From now on we'll just stay out of each other's love lives. Go have Pansy. I'm sure she's a very nice girl." It took all of Hermione's effort to not puke at the words, but she was sincere. If Harry wanted that pug-nosed-bitch-two-faced-loser-crap-girl… then he could have her.

"And you go have Malfoy," Harry returned, although he did look a little bit constipated at the words.

And so they both bolted from the common room, not quite sure if they would follow the other's advice.

A/N: I'm soo sorry it took so freakin' long but I'm so busy!! I've had tons and tons and tons of stuff to do and… I really wanted to get this out on September 12 because Delusion turned a year old that day! That's right this fic is now a little over a year old. I cannot believe it's been a year. Thanks to the reviewers who've been around since chapter 1…heck, thanks to all of you, although I guess last chapter wasn't very good because I didn't get very many reviews.

That's okay. You've got this chapter to review now. Please do. I call this Unraveling Part II cuz it delves into their friendships and stuff. The next chapter is either the last chapter or the second to last chapter I'm not sure yet. What else? Oh right, if you wanna be on the mailing list please leave your email addy. That's it, tell me what you thought!


	17. Chap 17: Epilogue

Delusion Chapter 17

A/N: OMG!! I am so verysorry for keeping you guys soo long! I hope I still have some readers! I could be like yeah, it was school, it was this, it was that, but I figure you don't want to hear excuses, so on with the story. This is the very last chapter, aka Epilogue, so I hope you enjoy. It is relatively short, but that's just b/c there really isn't that much left to say.

Hermione walked shakily down the corridors, not really aware of what she was doing. So, she and Harry had settled their differences, and both were okay with the other dating a Slytherin… but was she really okay with it for herself?

She had to think about it. After all, this was Draco Pighead Malfoy. The same boy who had mercilessly tortured her for all previous years at Hogwarts. The same boy who hated her best friends' guts. The same boy who apparently had slept with seventy-five percent of the female population and was rumored to be a walking STD factory.

Uh-oh. Should Hermione ever have any carnal desires, she was _so_ not going to act on them. She could live without gonorrhea, thank you very much!

Just as she was musing on how far Draco really had gone (she was pretty sure he 'scored' with every girl he pursued. Except her. she'd never let him have her), the idiot in question came up to her.

"You ran off earlier," he said.

"Excuse me? You're the one who seemed like you had a hippogriff after you."

He glared. "Whatever. Hey so listen…" he trailed off and blushed.

Hermione could've jumped for joy; the only thing she needed now was a camera. Who would have thought that Draco Mr. I'm-sooo-cool-just-check-out-my-ultra-ice-fest-fun Malfoy would actually have it in him to blush.

Did that mean he liked her too? She felt tingly at the very thought.

Draco's mind had drifted off to a conversation he had had with Pansy and the Followers just a few minutes earlier.

------

Pansy, Sally Anne, and Millicent had rounded up on Draco as soon as he'd entered the common room, looking rather flustered.

"Draco," screeched Sally Anne Perks, the craziest, weirdest, most fucked up girl at Hogwarts (and incredibly f-ing _hot_, too, Draco had to add).

"What?" he snapped. Not because he was angry, just because he was Draco and he was prone to mood swings and privy to random anger bursts. Hey. It's a Malfoy thing.

"You like this Hermione Granger girl," she stated. "I can't believe it. She's a bushy haired mudblood slitch!"

Draco was too taken aback by the word 'slitch' to even bother with Sally Anne's accusations. "Slitch?" he echoed.

"Duh Draco," Millicent interjected, "get with the bloody times. Slitch, duh, is slut plus bitch. For a while the cool thing to use was fugly, but that is soo like yesterday."

"Okay," Draco took a step back, feeling a bit weirded out. "You do that Millie."

"Oh, I will," she flashed him a superb set of pearly whites. Draco couldn't help but think that they were wasted on such a person. Not because of her looks (he wasn't as shallow as everyone thought) but more because of her scary personality. She was totally terrifying.

"Anyway," Pansy said loudly. "We digress. We're not through questioning you about Granger, Draco."

"Didn't you say," Draco remembered, "that you never wanted to talk to me again?"

"Draco shut up and listen!" Pansy demanded shrilly. "I want to tell you things. Now if you would be proper and stop interrupting then maybe I could say them!"

Draco sighed and sat down in one of the hard uncomfortable chairs so common in the Slytherin common room. "Then speak."

"That's better," Pansy snarled.

"Hey," Sally Anne spoke up, "let's tie him to the chair. I've always had this fantasy, where I tie a boy to a chair and then have my way with him. Oh Merlin. That sounds so hot…oh god, I'm feeling all tingly thinking about it…"

Words couldn't describe Draco's panicked expression. He bolted from the chair faster than you could say "kinky" and made a beeline for the opposite side of the common room. Unfortunately, with a simple swish of Pansy's wand, Draco was back into said chair… and what… there were _ropes_ around him?

"Pansy," he groaned unhappily. "Please don't subject me to this."

Sally Anne was licking her lips. Millicent was laughing.

Pansy grinned. "Stupid boy. Like I'd let Sally Anne touch you. Her idea of tying you down, however, was brill because now I can actually talk to you without you being a heinous roach."

Sally Anne disappeared in just a moment. "I must find Blaise," she grinned, "because I'm horny."

"Ew, gross," Millicent looked disgusted. "No one wants to know that, Sally Anne."

"Seriously," Pansy agreed. "Whatever. Now where was I?"

She let one perfectly manicured finger trail across Draco's collarbone. He shivered. He didn't know if it was because he was so damn scared he could pee his pants or if it was because the lack of heat in the common room was finally getting to him.

"Oh yes," she snapped. "Right. I was so pissed off at you for ruining my fucking life, Draco. I like Harry. He's a cool kid, okay? And you don't need to screw shit up between us because it's none of your business."

"Couldn't you have said that without me being bound?" Draco scowled.

"Yeah but it's just a lot more fun when you are," Millicent grinned.

"So, I've decided that we need to have a chat," Pansy smiled, sending Draco on alert again.

"A chat," he echoed.

"A chat." Pansy repeated firmly. "A chat about you and Granger and me and Harry. And how if you let me get with Harry I'll let you get with Granger."

"No," Draco breathed. "I hate Potter. I just can't let you get with him."

"Millicent," Pansy's grin did not fade one notch, "Please call Sally Anne for me."

"NO!" Draco howled. "NO!"

"Then I get Potter, and if you want you're welcome to Granger."

Draco shook his head furiously. "It's not possible, Pans. I won't have Hermione and you can't have Potter because they're stupid Gryffies. Plus Hermione's a mudblood."

"So?" Pansy shrugged. "Potter's a wimptard."

"Wimptard?"

"Wimp plus retard, you loser," Pansy snubbed. "So, what say you? You're up for it?"

"No," Draco finally answered, sounding unsure, which he totally was.

Pansy shrugged. "Have it your way, then, I suppose," she sighed. "SALLY ANNE!!!"

"No," Draco squealed. "no!"

Sally Anne bounded into the room. "What, I'm busy with Blaise," she scowled.

"Who cares? Tied-up-Draco is all yours," Millicent smiled.

"Let your fantasies run wild," Pansy added for effect. "Bye bye Draco."

"Come back! Come back!" Draco howled. "You can have Potter! I swear!"

"Done! That didn't take too long, did it, girls?" Pansy asked happily. In an instant the ropes were off, Draco was free, Sally Anne was disappointed but ran back to Blaise, and all was well.

"Now why don't you go catch yourself a Granger pie," Pansy shoved Draco out of the common room. "And don't come back till you get a large piece."

Before Draco could even say anything, they slammed the door shut in his face.

-----

And so that's how he was right here, wondering whether to go for Hermione or not. He really liked her. She was different. She wasn't just the oh-she's-hot-let-me-bed-her crush. She was something else and… he just liked talking to her.

Wow. He was so weird.

Finally he decided that maybe going for Hermione was not a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all; not when he had a freakish Sally Anne waiting for him.

"Hermione," he finally said, and then couldn't think of the right words.

Hermione apparently had lots to say. "Well Draco I've been doing some thinking, and I think that well maybe you and me… what I mean to say is that maybe you aren't…well, I mean that you and I could perhaps get…well…" she was obviously flustered, and she wouldn't stop talking, so Draco did the only thing he could think of.

He kissed her.

He felt her stiffen, and relax, and suddenly he realized that he was kissing, and liking it, Hermione Granger, a pretty, Gryffindor girl that he really did like, and really did want to be with…

"I guess that shut me up," Hermione whispered as they pulled apart.

"Let's do it again," Draco suggested. And so they did.

------

Meanwhile, Pansy had problems of her own to work out. Now that she'd gotten that Draco and Granger thing taken care off she could turn her attention to Harry Potter. _Ew_. He was such a total wimptard, she couldn't even begin to describe it.

He treated her like she was a fucking goddess. He was beautiful. He was too sweet, way too sweet for his own good. Too nice. Too wimpy. Such a total sensitive dork.

She loved him for it. Just thinking about him gave Pansy butterflies. He was too tame for her, she knew it. But maybe it would be nice to have a sensitive boyfriend when you were as tough as she was. She had to have him; she couldn't stop thinking about him and getting him seemed to be the only cure.

She didn't really know where to find him. Draco and Granger were notorious for roaming the halls in search for each other and she was pretty sure they were in each other's arms right now. It was cute, in a weird, sick, and twisted way.

Or maybe the weird, sick, and twisted thing was _Pansy_ finding something _cute_.

Whatever.

She sighed. Pansy was in no mood to peruse the Gryffindor common room for her lover-boy. Just because one (or two, if you counted Granger) Gryffindors turned out to be kind of normal, didn't mean that the rest of them were.

Finally she gave up. She'd see him at dinner, she supposed, or something. It could wait, couldn't it? It wasn't as if Harry was just about to disappear out of her life, right?

Damn. She really couldn't wait. She needed him right now, she wanted to see him; his wimpy, skinny little self and… oh she could just squeeze him she liked him so very much!

Maybe Merlin loved her after all because at that very instant Harry Potter himself strolled round the corner, walking with Weasley. He stopped when he saw her and held up a hand as if to say "wait" and turned to Weasley.

Weasley frowned but went off in the other direction and Harry made his way over to where Pansy was. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," Pansy replied nonchalantly. It was best not to let Harry know how she felt; she had to play him hot or cold or something; it was totally weird just to let him know she was practically in love with him.

"What's up?"

"Nothing, really."

"Yeah."

There was an awkward pause and Pansy wondered if maybe he didn't really like her after all.

"Listen—" Harry began at the same time Pansy said, "Look".

"What?" they asked each other simultaneously.

"I like you," Harry finally said, rather simply, rather blandly. "There. I've said it. I really do. And I want to be with you, even after this whole mess."

Awww, Pansy's heart could've melted. _Fuck_ playing hard-to-get. Harry was all hers! "I like you too," she grinned, and pulled him closer.

-----

Draco and Hermione were walking amicably through the empty halls of Hogwarts. Really, they were a good place to meet and talk and do… other things, but they could get to that later. So engrossed were they in their conversation that they didn't notice Pansy and Harry, rather busy, until they practically stumbled on them.

"Harry!" cried Hermione.

"Pansy!" cried Draco.

The two addressed drew apart quickly and sent their housemates evil glares. "What?" Harry scowled.

"can't you see we're busy?" Pansy snapped.

Draco and Hermione turned to each other and shrugged. Draco grabbed hold of Hermione's wrist and whispered into her ear, "Want to do what they're doing?"

But before Hermione could scream and protest on the evils of PDA, who should walk into the two couples but Ronald Weasley himself.

Who stopped and stared. And stared some more. "What is going on?" he finally demanded, unsure whether to glare at Harry and Pansy, who were still kissing (kissing!) or Malfoy and Hermione, who were holding hands.

Harry and Hermione sent each other looks, and the two Slytherins grinned nastily. "Er…well, it's a bit of a long story," Hermione began, laughing.

"We'll tell it to you someday," Harry added. "But for now, you just need to know that not all Slytherin are scum."

"And not all Gryffindors," Draco sent Ron a pointed look, "are wimptards."

"Hey!" Pansy sighed. "Harry is a wimptard. And that is why I love him."

Draco could've sworn he heard Ron mutter "slitch" under his breath.

Good. That's the way things should be.

A/N: Well, there you go. The epilogue to Delusion. So it's entirely happy and rather fluffy but I figured after all those twists and turns its nice just to be mellow. Well tell me what you thought of the story; I really want to know! Please review, it is the last chapter after all! Thanks for being such amazing readers.


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